Tokyo Geisha
by Falke-ness
Summary: Behind the painted face, behind the downcast eyes, concealed beneath the facade of enchantment and adoration for every man she meets, there is perhaps the lingering trace of a girl who longs for love. -DROPPED-
1. Tokyo Geisha

(Edited) Alright, first of all I would like to say that Rurouni Kenshin doesn't belong to me. Second of all, I'd like to reveal that this is based off of Memoirs of a Geisha by Arthur Golden. If you haven't read it yet, I suggest you do—it's a wonderful tale. Yes, there are strong similarities between the two. YES I know that Kaoru's geisha name is remarkably similar to the character in Memoirs. However, after the first few chapters, the fic begins to deviate from the novel. You'll also probably find some sections that seem similar to parts in the novel. I did use the book as my beginning reference so I probably did quote a few lines (which I felt they did a better job in explaining) and slightly changed them up. I did however try to add extra bits and pieces of information that I researched that weren't given in the novel. So there's my warning.

* * *

Tokyo Geisha 

The first time my eyes had lain upon him, I was but 14—still an apprentice, or more accurately, still a novice. It had just turned evening and my older sister, the great geisha Yuki Sakuyaro, had taken me to my first debut: a small party for Aku Tanaka. As one of Kyoto's finest sword makers, he was holding a celebration in honour of the completion of one of his greatest masterpieces: a sakaboto. I had heard rumors that at that very party, he would bestow the sword to a dear friend who had saved his life during the wars.

As we entered, I heard several greeting of hello to my sister. I had expected this, just as I expected for my presence to be ignored until introduced and even still after that. However, the feel of eyes burning into the crown of my head startled me, and it took all of my will (which is said to be much too strong) to keep my eyes upon my lap or the ground. We went around the table; Yuki teased each guest before mentioning, "oh Yaru-san!", "If you please Ido-sama", "You flatter me Suno-san", or other such headings; then she would proclaim, "Allow me to introduce my new little sister." Each time, my reaction was the same; I would repeat, "My name is Sayuki, I beg your indulgence." Either, the men would nod, or they would seem to not hear. The name seemed foreign on my lips; in fact, it had only been bestowed upon me that morning. There had been so many different choices: Yukira, Yukimoro, Mayuki, ect…, all of which I would have preferred, but the fortuneteller was adamant that Sayuki was the most suiting and would bring the okiya the most fortune.

Now, you may be wondering why just that day I had taken a new name. I hadn't always responded to the name Sayuki; in fact, my former name didn't even posses the base yuki. However, as Sakuyaro's apprentice, it was only fitting that I honor her by taking her name into my own. I used to be called Kaoru—Kamiya Kaoru. At the time, had I known that not until many years later would I hear that name again, I might have saved the name plaque that once held my name in my father's dojo. I was simply Sayuki now—the geisha to be. Any girl who trained to be a geisha took on a new name as a geisha under the binding ceremony. In this ceremony, the soon-to-be apprentice and the older geisha who is undertaking the task to train her are registered. From then on, the two honour each other with the titles "older sister" or "little sister". It may seem strange, but in truth, for most geisha, those who ran your life in the okiya and the geisha who took you in as an apprentice were probably the closest thing to a family one could ever have. For this reason, the head of an okiya was often called mother or granny.

I also suppose you are wondering how I came to be a geisha. You see, my father was enlisted in the army during the revolution. Of course, one cannot easily defy the government, not when one has a small child to feed cloth. I was but 8 years of age at the time. When the news that my father had passed away arrived, I didn't know what to do. I prayed -everyday- before the small tablets that severed as miniature epitaphs for my ancestors, praying that my father had found peace. It was a few weeks after I had received the news when I heard a knocking at the gate. It turned out to be some officials. With nothing in my hands but a spare kimono or two, my bokken, and the tablets, I was led away from the home I had always known. That was the first time I had been allowed to venture out of our town; consequently, it also proved to be the last time I would see my family's dojo for quite some time.

I was told that I could return to the dojo when I turned 18, but in the mean time, I needed a place to stay. Of course, no one would adopt a strong-willed young girl such as me, especially not during the midst of war. I found myself in Kyoto and led to a small okiya run by a strict old woman in which only one other geisha resided. It was a hard change for me. My father had always allowed me to do as I willed: to practice the art of swords with him, to play, and dare I say it—to act as a tomboy. This sort of behavior was not tolerated at the okiya; it was unbefitting for a lady. I soon learned that I would have to either control myself, pretend as best as I can to be docile, or risk a harsh punishment. The beating I received on my few slip ups were always a strong reminder to never allow my façade to drop no matter to who it was that I was speaking to. There was another little girl there, perhaps a year or so older--Kaede. Perhaps if circumstances were different— if the both of us had not been thrust so cruelly into the world, had not grown in the same okiya to fight vainly for the endearment of Granny's affection, had that single geisha in our okiya, Yumi, been kind hearted enough to allow us the time—we might have been friends.

In any case, I shall detail to you the reasons of the fall out between Kaede and myself on another time. For now, let us return to the subject of HIM. As I was saying, Yuki and I made our way around the table, starting at the host's side and revolving around until we reached the last person on Aku's other side. It seemed strange to me that Yuki did not exclaim a greeting towards this last person; instead, she softly offered another cup of sake. This sudden change in my sister was so curious that once again, I had to force myself to not raise my head. I compensated by allowing my eyes to wander somewhat, taking in the color of his kimono—pink (he would later claim it to be magenta). My gaze made its way up until it reached his chin. I dared not go any further, for it is terribly rude for one to stare directly into eyes of a man. There was a moment of silence between the three of us until once again, I felt that piercing gaze at me. I knew instantly that it was this man's paralyzing glance that had demurred Yuki so. At his observation, Yuki quietly murmured, "This is Sayuki, Himura-san—my new little sister." Per usual, I bowed so low that my forehead brushed the ground. "I be—"

I was cut off before I could finish with a gruff voice: "beg my indulgence." It was curt, almost mocking. Some of the men around us who had heard let out a roar of laughter; the other geisha in the room giggle slightly, some enjoying the small ridicule, others were more sympathetic. I was so startled that my head had shot up involuntarily. As soon as I had glanced up, my eyes met the most extraordinary pair of eyes I had ever seen. Amber, a violet tint seemed to be fighting with this dominate color, forcing its way back into his eyes. I watched for several moments, fascinated as his eyes blazed, the violet still engaging it battle. It wasn't until Yuki gave me a sharp nudge that I realized my folly. It felt as if all the blood in my body had rushed to my face. I thought my ears might steam. Immediately I dropped my gaze, bowing over and over again and pleading his forgiveness for my impertinence. Upon the fifth bow, I was determined to receive either a reprimand or forgiveness, and so I stay bowed. It wasn't until I heard a soft laughter that I rose somewhat, face flushing more red than it had been the moment before.

The sound was perhaps the most beautiful thing I had heard since the news of my father's death. To find that I might still make someone happy or at least amuse them gave me a new purpose. To this day, his laughter still causes my heart to skip. From that time foreword, I pledged to work as hard as I might to be one of the best geisha in Kyoto and perhaps climb as close as I might to that amber-eyed man who brought this light into my world. It wasn't until later that day as we left the teahouse did Yuki revealed to me the reason for the change in persona around this Himura-san. Just as he had that weakening affect upon me, he seemed to see through every one of Yuki's defenses, guises, charms into her very center of her soul where his gaze would, as she put it "melt the very heart that she thought long dead." She was enchanted. I was crushed. To hear that my teacher fancied the man was perhaps the most painful thing I had felt since I realized I was completely alone in the world. For you see, Yuki had been the one to take me under her wing when no one else would, to show me kindness in a world of beautiful and treacherous women. This perhaps, was when I learned that while there is plenty good in the world- good things, beautiful things- such things can often times be the most painful of them all.

Thus, I was condemned to watch, to tease, and to entertain. Yet, strangely, I no longer felt as alone and cold as I once had. Even when it was announced that Himura had proposed himself as Yuki's _danna_, I was content to have his presence there; indeed, I was satisfied even if it was Yuki who he always called upon- claimed. For no one would ever call upon a mere apprentice… I would stand by for years, always by his side or the side of one near to him. It remained unknown to me for many years, until he had left to wander (he had left for Tokyo--it was only then that Yuki told me), that the very man I had longed for had often been found (unbeknownst to me) stealing glimpses or even staring at the apprentice of the beautiful geisha he had been _danna_ to.

At the time, I wasn't sure whether I should have been angry or relieved. This bit of information had been enough to cause a rift between Yuki and myself. I was 18 at the time. Naïve, a geisha but of 2 years. It was weeks before I could forgive Yuki, forgive myself. Her withholding of that information was perhaps the kindest thing she could have done for me. For I had seen the pain Yuki had undergone at his leaving, though I could never really say if it were as great or more great than my own, for she was closer to him than I. I had seen the longing, the hurt. I recognized then that it was merciful of her to spare me—I was foolish. A geisha can never fall in love. And despite knowing this, I longed to be a geisha of Tokyo, if only to be with him for a few moments more.

* * *

Danna- Contrary to what many people believe, geisha don't sleep with just anybody, a geisha who does can ruin her reputation and even her okiya. They are paid to entertain, their very title meaning "artisans". They sleep with few people, those who they do have to become their danna. These people have to pay for this special privilege, and the geisha only has one danna at a time. The danna will pay for the time spent with the geisha, just like everyone else must at a party, plus he buys her expensive gifts (kimono, scrolls, jewelry, ect…) He also pays for her housing, food, medical expenses, schooling, dance lessons/performances, and anything that involves her training. Basically, he pays for her to be his mistress, although she still entertains at teahouses and other parties. He simply gets an "extra privilege." 

Well, there you have it. I might also point out that you shouldn't quote me on anything I claimed about the geisha. Everything I wrote about them was picked up from Memoirs of a Geisha or some other source Although, I tried to make sure everything was accurate, if it's not, please be sure to tell me.

_Falkeness_


	2. Change: Earth and Water

Change: Earth and Water

As I had mentioned before, at the time of Himura-san's leaving, I was at the age of 18. And I believe I also mentioned that I would be allowed to return to the dojo of my childhood once I had reached that age—said to be the time of adulthood. Perhaps you are wondering why I continued to work for the okiya even after the passing of that birthday. You see, my entrance into the world of "artisans" isn't as simple as one may seem. You cannot simply become a geisha and think to quit whenever you wished. The world back then didn't work in such ways.

You might have noticed that I didn't exactly say that the mistress of the okiya had adopted me; in fact, she hadn't. To be adopted meant that I would cast off my former name (not that I would be allowed to utter it once I became "Sayuki") and take on the house's title. I would then also be the heir to the Komogata fortune as well as the business. Yumi-san, who was the only geisha at the okiya at the time of my arrival, would not have liked that and I suspect that she would have made my life more miserable than she already had. No—I hadn't been adopted. Like most girls who were sent to be geisha, I was sold. The okiya had bought me for quite a sum of yen.

Granny never did tell me exactly how much I had been worth, but it wouldn't have mattered to me anyways—I had repaid it by the age of 16. You see, a geisha is bound to the okiya until she has paid off her debts. She must work to repay the amount that the head of the house had paid to buy her as well as the food expenses, medical bills, schooling fees, and such. Well, my _mizuage_ had been enough to pay off what I owed; however, I found myself questioning my future. What could I do at the age of 18 with no job, no husband, and no way to support herself? While I had practiced my father's sword technique over the years, those practice sessions were few and far between. I couldn't risk marring my hands with such works; I would then be unable to play the shamisen as adequately as I wished. I was not near skilled enough to become a swords instructor just yet, and in any case, what man would wish to be the pupil of a women?

It's nice to think that the world is a good place and that we were all equals, but the truth is, women and men were on such different levels that one could compare (or contrast) them as a king to a peon. Think of it like this: men are the earth that we walked upon; the rain represents women. Have you ever watched a small pool of water upon the earth? When given the chance, it always wishes to flow away, to break apart and trickle towards a freedom that could never possibly exist. No matter how fast it streams, eventually the earth consumes it. It is only collectively that each drop continues to exist, and yet slowly and surely, that prolonged freedom eventually wears thin.

So, with no idea as to what I could possibly do without any prior training in anything but entertainment, I had little choice but to stay. Of course, there's no forgetting the small fact that if I had not been a geisha, I would never had even come close to Himura-san. This is why geisha would want a _danna_. He would pay for any of his mistress's debts as well as lavish her with gifts and fortune. Of course, not every geisha could afford a wealthy _danna_. One was considered fortunate to even receive a gift as grand as a kimono or jewels. This is why Yuki-san was so fortunate. With the help of the allowance and gifts that Himura-san provided her, Sister was allowed to break free from the okiya she had been working for and could afford to live on her own as an independent geisha.

A fortnight or two after Yuki and I had made amends, Yuki confided to me her plans to leave Kyoto. I wasn't sure how to respond to this. She confessed that she wished to travel to Tokyo to find Himura-san. She explained that she now had enough to do whatever she wished, to cast of the life of a geisha and perhaps start her own teahouse. She planned to find Himura and hopefully become his wife. You can't even begin to imagine the betrayal I felt. Of course, I felt guilty for this sense of anger. Why should I feel betrayed if I had never shown a single cue that might reveal my own affections for Himura-san? Yet that sense of anger consumed me—I kept it hidden. It was perhaps the greatest challenge of all for me to not let loose the dam that held my grief at bay when Yuki offered to allow me to join her. How could I travel with her? How could I go to find the man of both of our dreams and find my own fantasy shattered when they wed? Thus, I refused. I shall never forget our farewell.

She was busy rolling up a scroll that she had just taken down from the wall. It was a lengthy masterpiece: a beautiful crane with wings outspread was delicately shielding the kneeling figure of a young apprentice geisha. Cherry blossom trees decorated the background, and if you looked closely, you could make out the figures of mountains in the far distance. It was one of the many gifts that Himura-san had bestowed upon my elder sister. As she laid it upon a small pile of folded kimono, she paused with her hand upon the scroll. Hesitantly, almost shyly, she turned her head towards me. "Kaoru-chan…" she was one of the few people who knew my childhood name. It startled me when that name left her lips. I had not heard it since I had become her sister. "I—I would ask that you join me."

Immediately, the sense of abandonment I had felt when she first announced her leaving left me. I could leave this life—forever. Yuki was the closest thing to a family that I possessed, and I was far too reluctant to part with her. However, I was even more reluctant to allow myself to be broken once again. Just the thought of Yuki and Himura spending the rest of their lives together was enough to make me cry—the site would be the death of me. I longed to leave, but I knew what would become of me once Yuki found her lover—I would be left to fend for myself and in a worse predicament than I was now. "Yuki-san—I", my voice caught. A sob had threatened to surface. "I cannot." With that, I bowed, mimicking the gesture she had taught me many many years ago. I rose to leave, stopping at the door to kneel and give one more bow, "Farewell Yuki-san"

Before I could step out the door, I heard her voice—quiet. "Kaoru-chan, please."

I allowed my head to turn back, glancing at her from the corner of my eyes. At this point, I was already within the doorway. She walked up to me or more precisely, glided. A figure such as Yuki could never be classified as a regular geisha. She was often called perfection and in my eyes, she was. At the time, she wore an elegant kimono: black with the design of blades of grass at the hem. A gold and silver crane was rising from the flowers and blades; lotus blossoms drifted in the winds. It shocked me when she embraced me. "Please, call me Shura."

The name was a wonder to my lips. It didn't seem to suit this woman so full of grace, humor, and kindness. I often wondered how life could have been so cruel as to cast her in the role of a geisha. What person who had his sanity could sell her to this sort of life? Shura was a stranger to me, a name that didn't seem to fit the persona of the famous geisha Yuki. "Good-bye Shura-san. Thank you for your wisdom." I returned the embrace. That was the last time I saw her as Yuki, with tears in her eyes. Several months later, sometime in the dawn of winter, I heard rumors of pirates upon the coast. It amused me to hear that their leader was a woman by the name of Shura no less. At first, I couldn't imagine Yuki-san as a pirate. However, after the descriptions, I could find no doubt that the Pirate Shura was the one and only geisha Yuki. While I was saddened that my dear friend had turned to the life of piracy, it was somewhat of a comfort to know that her quest for Himura-san had been unsuccessful. At the same moment, I felt ashamed to think such joyous thoughts about my sister's failure. However, the comfort was limited, for at the time, my dreams seemed further away than they had ever seemed before. If Yuki could not breech the heart of this wandering samurai, how could I possibly ever succeed?

For the moment, I had been content to live my life as an entertainer. My life was in no danger and dare I say it? The parties could even be described as fun. I had no _danna_, so I had no worries that I might be forced into any favors of the perverse nature. It was around the time of the New Year, I was still at the time, 18. A week or so prior, I had greatly angered Yumi. On accident, I had discovered her with her boyfriend one night. I had been so embarrassed that I had stumbled backwards, right into the large vase behind me. Naturally, it fell, shattering and causing a large deal of noise. It was enough to wake granny up. Needless to say, she was furious. But her fury was nothing compared to the burning gazes of hate that Yumi directed at me. As I said, that had been several days prior. Back to the subject—it was around the time of the New Year when everything changed.

Granny informed me that someone had requested to be my _danna_—Shishio Makato, Yumi-san's former boyfriend. You may wonder why Shishio never became Yumi's danna. I shall explain that another time; for now, know that Yumi would accept no one else but Shishio as her danna. Unfortunately, he was the one man she could never have. But that's another story for another time. What mattered was that I knew this was the revenge that Yumi would have on me. I had no doubt that Shishio was enraged at being torn apart from his lover.

Upon hearing this news, I made my decision; I couldn't stay in the Komogata okiya, my safety was no longer guaranteed. I made plans to run away, after all, I now had a dojo I could return to. I thought that I could simply become an independent geisha in my old hometown. While I didn't have many kimonos of my own (for you see, unless the kimono was a gift from a customer, most geisha wore the clothing that the okiya provided. It was their property, not the artisans.), I knew that my mother's old kimonos were still stored at the dojo. All I needed to do was find a day to run away. For that, I checked my almanac (for you see, geisha are highly superstitious) and set the time for 5 days hence.

Perhaps it was the New Year that had encouraged me, or perhaps it was a need to find a true home. For, I admit in the past I had been afraid of change. You see, there is nothing more I fear than losing my home. Having lost one already, I felt as if I had lost one again when Yuki had left. Now, with the hopes of a new life and perhaps yet another new home (for while it was to an old home that I was venturing to, it would never be the same), I was more determined then ever. I had even held up the notion that perhaps I might meet Himura-san again; after all, he was a wanderer.

If only my plan- my dream-could have been as easy and wonderful as it seemed.

* * *

Mizuage—When a geisha loses her virginity. The honor of being the one to take the geisha's virginity is sold to the highest bidder. Bidding can last for months. The victor is bond in a ceremony to the apprentice geisha. It's only a single night, and afterwards the man doesn't get any more "favors", unless of course he becomes her danna when she becomes a fully fledged geisha.

Shamisen- It might be called a Japanese guitar, although it originated from China. I guess you could say it resembles a banjo. It's made of wood, with three strings and a long tuning arm. Every Geisha is expected to learn how to play this instrument, as well as several others. It is meant to be accompanied by singing, which geisha are also required to learn and practice.


	3. The Warrior and the Wanderer

I just realized that Kaoru's father didn't actually die in the revolution, he died in 1877 in the Satsuma Revolution. That would make her 15 when her dad died. However, that doesn't work for my story, so I'm leaving Kamiya's death date as around 1868 with a false participation in the revolution, making Kaoru 6 at the time, rather than the 8 that I mentioned before.

Please note!--To be warned, the paragraphs 2 and 3 are simply retelling of the ova's. Skip it if you wish, though of course you might actually enjoy it. Dunno.

* * *

The Warrior and the Wanderer

This unworthy one has a story to tell. I'm sure that you've heard it mentioned that I am a wanderer. I have been so for several years. You see, for those of you who remember the civil war or revolution that began in the 1850's (I believe my involvement had not come about until around the 1860's), you would know that the Choshu clan had prevailed through a secret weapon- an assassin that went by the name of Hitokiri Battousai. Everyone believed that he had simply disappeared after the revolution. Occasionally, you would hear rumors of his reappearance. I assure you, those rumors are far from the actual truth. How do I know? I am Battousai. You might think me mad, perhaps you shall lose interest in my tale now that I've told you this bit of information. Of course, that's fine, it's not the most blithe of tales anyway. But if you'll refrain from voicing your skepticism, which I wholly understand (Most of the sane society would never hazard a guess that I, a man of lithe form and small stature could be the feared assassin of the late Edo era—I prefer it that way), I shall continue on to disclose my story.

I was orphaned as a young boy when cholera destroyed my family. From there I was sold into slavery. However, our caravan had been attacked by pillaging bandits-- all those I travel with died, including the three young women who had taken care of me during my servitude. They died protecting me. At that point, Battousai didn't exist, I went by the name of Shinta at the time. This unworthy one was saved from these attackers by Hiko Seijuro, who hence forth shall be known as shishou. He took me, changing my name to Himura Kenshin. Shishou taught me the Hiten Mitsurugi-Ryū, he was 13th successor of the technique. I, being naïve at the time, as most idealists tended to be, left his care to join the war. Shamefully, I admit that our parting words were most unkind.

That is where the legend of Battousai begins. What you don't know is that around late 1864 (I was 13 at the time), I was sent to assassin Shigekura Jurobei. Not too long after, I fell in love with a beautiful woman by the name of Tomoe Yukishiro. At the time, I thought everything would work out wonderfully. What I hadn't realized, was that in the beginning, Tomoe had been plotting vengeance. I had killed her fiancé, Akira Kiyosato, who had been a bodyguard of Jurobei. Kiyosato-san was the one who left a scar upon my face. But when the Choshu clan was destroyed, Katsura (my superior at the time) had us stay with one another, using the façade of a couple as a safe guard. In the end, she died to save me—she…she threw herself in front of the opponent I had been fighting. Her death was _sessha's_ fault, she completed the cross scar that her fiancé had left unfinished before she died. Afterwards around 1868, with blood upon my hands and the Meiji Era beginning, Battousai disappeared, leaving what you see here today—Himura, a wanderer.

During my travels, I ventured back to Kyoto. I had thought to return to shishou, but after a bit of considering, I changed my mind. You see, I had gone against the wishes of my teacher before I had even finished mastering the Hiten Mitsurugi-Ryū. I didn't think he would teach me the succession technique until I had repented. That, and I wasn't looking forward to the name "Hiko Seijuro XIV." You see, since the II Seijuro, every master of the Hiten Mitsurugi has cast off their name to take the title that my shishou wears, adding the proceeding number.

But, as I was there at the time, I had decided to stay. I'll admit, Battousai at this point was not completely gone. I still harbored a great hatred against the Edo's former shogunate. My grief Tomoe still flowed freely. However, as I had pledged to no longer kill, I decided I should no longer carry a katana and wakizashi (that and they were now forbidden). So I decided to visit an old friend of mine, Aku Tanaka. I begged a favor from him, and he obliged. The same night I visited him, he took me to celebrate, that is, so that we might reacquaint ourselves with one another. He brought me to the Shinzen Teahouse.

I shall tell you now—I had never been fond of teahouses, nor of geisha. You see, to me, geisha are like water, splitting and running in different directions so that you never know exactly what goes on in their minds and what they are planning. I had thought that they were all treacherous—that is, until that first night at the Shinzen house, the night I met Yuki. Yuki-san was very odd. I would often watch her, interacting with the other guests. She seemed different when speaking to certain people. She knew exactly what to say, how to act, and how to charm. The perfect hostess. I was amazed by the grace with which she danced, the skill she preformed when playing the shamisen, the sweet and crystal voice with which she sung. Aku and I returned every night (he had pledged to treat me until he had completed the sakabato). Yuki and I became acquainted quite quickly. She fascinated me, and I'll admit that I did harbor a care for her.

At the time, I thought I was love struck, I thought she was happy being with me. Perhaps she was. But I don't believe I truly cared for her as many might have thought. No, my feelings for Yuki was of a great level, perhaps that of a good friend—or an elder brother. I did not realize at the time, how unjust my opinions of geisha were at the time. I had thought that these women had chosen to do this, I thought they were simple mongers for attention and yen. However, Yuki changed that thought—Yuki and her sister. This one will never forget the day he saw her. Her name was Sayuki, I was 25 at the time. She was ten or so years my junior, Yuki claimed her to be 14; however, she seemed younger in body, older in mind.

When she first entered, I could sense the dismal aura that surrounded her. Yet she greeted everyone with a soft smile, seeming unaffected when none turned to greet her in return, uncaring that she was being ignored. At the time, I hadn't known the life style of a geisha, this was the first time I had laid eyes upon an apprentice. Of course, at the time, I hadn't known that she was really a novice, not yet a women yet and forced into a world of men. At first I classified my interest as pity. I continued to go to the Shinzen even after Aku provided me with the sakabato. My visits however, were shorter—with lengthier absences. I had continued to wander, returning every so often to come to the teahouse. However, when I found myself angry, protective over Sayuki—I knew that my feelings were something other than pity. It frightened me, there I was, a man in his late 20's, eying a girl who had yet to hit the line of maturity. I began to shift my attentions back to Yuki.

When I found that someone had offered to be Yuki's _danna_, I entered the bidding. I would rather be her _danna_ then allow anyone else to take that role. At the time, I could tell that Yuki did not favor the man—she often seemed tense, hesitant, but always unwavering in her duty. I knew that if proposed, she would allow this lustrous man to court her. I didn't allow it. While I was her_ danna_, he never forced her to do anything. This, I promised her- "The chastity of a flower should only be taken at her consent. I shall provide for you but only with love will I take you." I had not known about _mizuage_ at the time. Had I known, I would have bid for Sayuki's. Unfortunately, I had been wandering at the time of her bidding. I would never forgive myself for that.

Over the four years that I had visited Yuki and her sister, I had been able to watch them grow (particularly Sayuki). I bore witness to the day she became an official geisha, to the years in which she slowly matured from a young and charming girl, to a beautiful and enticing woman. I could stand it no longer. So, shortly after my 29th turning, I left the Shinzen, breaking off my tie as Yuki's _danna._ I was fairly certain that my support for her was enough for her to start a new life. And while I desperately wished to also help Sayuki-dono, I wasn't sure that I could suppress myself. For you see, over the years, I had continued to struggle with my alter self—the feelings that battousai held. I couldn't guarantee the same promise for Sayuki that I had made for Yuki.

I had thought to return once I had suppressed my Id (I had begun to think of "battousai" as that). I would travel, repent—gain some fortune so that when I returned, I could help the girl. I planned to propose myself as her _danna_, and if all went well, to help her cast off that life. Often times, when she poured sake into my cup, I could feel the haunted gaze directed at the alcohol that she at times would let slip. True smiles upon her lips were few and far between, I prided myself in being one of the few who had seen an honest smile of hers. All others were usually masks. However, when I returned to Kyoto, I found her gone.

* * *

Well, there you go. I'm afraid there probably won't be another update until sometime next week. For the next several days, I'm going to be too busy to write. Sorry! But I would appreciate any comments and such— they would be really helpful. I've found that this story isn't just something for me to write anymore—it's something for me to learn from. Before, in my other stories, I never really had to research anything. For this one, I do—I wanted to make it as accurate as humanly possible, while the characters themselves are fictional the wars, time periods and culture is all historical. It's a learning experience. 


	4. The Beginning

The Beginning

_(1868, Kyoto, Japan: Kamiya Kaoru, age 6)_

The trip there had been the first time I had wandered away from my home. Now that we had arrived in Kyoto, I dearly wished to return to the dojo. However, I stayed silent obediently following the gruff looking man who guided me. Two days ago, the officers in our town had taken me to the station where a horse drawn carriage and a large man awaited us. The man took me by the arm, thanking the officers and directed me into the carriage. I wasn't sure what to think of it. His grip had been tight, painful. It was as if he feared that I would run away. Of course, at the time such a notion hadn't even struck me. I was dazed, confused—all I wanted was my father and knowing that he wouldn't be there, I had little inspiration to run. The ride had been quiet, an unnerving silence. I had wondered if this would be my new father. I hoped not, he was not the most pleasing to the eye, and was—dare I say it—cruel? The trip took two days; during that time while he had brought food for himself, he offered none to me. I began to think how awful it would be to be this man's daughter. He certainly looked as if he need not eat anymore, I was afraid that he might even devour me. I would later learn that he went by the name of Ouran.

Now here we are, on the outskirts of Kyoto. The carriage had driven off after being paid. Ouran-san took my arm once again in that overbearing grip of his. He hailed a rickshaw, which we squeezed into (you have to realize that this was quite a feat—Ouran-san was not by any means, small. Except perhaps in height). We stopped in front of the Komagata okiya. There, a young girl was sweeping. Immediately when she saw us, she dropped the broom and scurried inside. I stood paralyzed at the foot of the door, my escort patiently waiting beside me. Not too long afterwards, the door slid open to reveal the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. She wore an elegant kimono; its price could probably match the worth of a small village. Her face was powdered white, lips full and painted red. Her hair was adorned with an intricate ornament of tassels and beads. However, her eyes are what paralyzed me. She looked down at me with such venom, I was sure that I would join my ancestors only a few seconds later.

She turned her head away from me, gazing back into the building. "Mother, it seems someone has left a bit of trash upon the doorstep. I cannot sully myself by stepping by this filth." Of course, she was speaking of me. Instantly, I knew that despite how colorful she was adorned, how graceful she walked and gentle she seemed, she was in fact the thorn upon the rose, hidden beneath its petals.

A middle age woman came out, also lovely in her own way. She gave the young lady a tut, exclaiming, "Yumi, It wouldn't hurt for you to walk into the street can you not see that she is no harm to you."

"Mother, with all respect, you may walk into the public with trash about your feet, but when I see such a thing, I wouldn't dare venture out—think of what harm it could bring to my reputation." She sent a withering glare in my direction before glancing at the older woman expectantly.

With a sigh, "Mother" waved a hand, and Ouran pulled me aside. In that moment, I don't believe that I had ever felt so small, so insignificant. As Yumi passed though the door, she bent over slightly. I watched, unsure of what she was doing, until Mother came and struck flints over her back. I watched as the sparks died away over her. I suppose you could call this an act of warding off bad omens and spirits. Geisha are highly superstitious. With this act done, Yumi straightened disappeared into the streets. Ouran followed her example and left me alone with the older woman who I would soon learn to call Mother. The name wasn't as enduring as one might believe. Mother was the adopted daughter of the okiya's mistress, who I was told to address as Granny. It was uncomfortable for me to call these women by those names. After all, I felt no kinship towards them, no familial bond. But then again, I had little choice.

Mother pulled me inside, and left to fetch Granny. I stood there, alone, tired, and with a sense of parental abandonment that became so overwhelming that I began to cry. The tears began to poor down my cheeks, and soon I began to sob. So lost in my act that I didn't notice when Mother returned with an even older woman. I however granted them my fool attention when I felt a sharp pain flash through my cheek. I stumbled back, tears still leaking from my eyes. That had been the first time I was ever struck, my father had never raised a hand to me. It would not be the last.

That was the beginning of my life at the Okiya. I soon became acquainted the girl who I had first seen upon arriving. She went by the name of Takatsuki Marima, later she would be renamed Toki. From the very first day that I had entered this new world, I was thrust into the servitude that they demanded. Every day held chores and training. While it was not the happiest of lives, I always had to remind myself that it was better than being in the streets.

_(1881, Kyoto Japan: Kamiya Kaoru)_

The day had finally come for my escape. The previous day, I had taken what few kimonos I actually owned, hiding some scrolls, jewels and hair ornaments among them, and placed them in Shura-sans old apartment above this small restaurant owned by Sae Sekihara. Sae-san and I had become friends rather quickly; she, knowing that I was the little sister of Shura's assumed I was going to the apartment to tend the area. Shura had told Sekihara-san that she would return and to keep the room available for her, dropping a large sum of rent to ensure that it would be open for sometime. I assumed that Shura's plans had changed, surely she would have returned by now. In any case, the apartment was the perfect place for me to stash my items I couldn't take all my possessions, else wise Mother and Granny would have become suspicious. That same day, I spoke to a carriage driver, paying him half in advance to pick up my parcels the following day and to meet me at the Kiyomizu Temple at midnight.

As usual, that day, I left near noon to attend to the engagements where my presence had been requested. My last stop had been the Shinzen Teahouse. Although I hadn't particularly been invited to a party there that evening, I knew that no one would have qualms if I dropped by. After all, I had been scheduled to go to a different teahouse that night. However, something drew me towards the Shinzen. Perhaps it was the lingering hope that Himura-san would return there. Whatever the case, the night passed quickly and when the moon was high, I took my leave, feigning a drunken state. After exiting the teahouse, I made my way to the temple. There, discretely, I climbed atop the awaiting carriage and we were off. I was lucky that the day could be so soon. I had been afraid that my almanac wouldn't signify a day that was suitable for traveling east that would be close enough so that I might avoid spending the night with Shishio. The gods must have been with me. I was on my way to Tokyo.

_(1881 Kyoto, Japan: Himura Kenshin)_

It had been half a year or so since I had been back to Kyoto. In dim moonlight, I watched as a carriage passed, its occupant's head bowed so that I couldn't see her features. The traveler was a geisha, and I thought it peculiar to be traveling so late at night. In any case, it wasn't any of my concern. I brushed the sense of déjà vu behind as they passed me and headed towards my destination. I would stay with Tanaka for the night, and make my way to the Komagata okiya.

When dawn broke, it took all of my will to keep myself from simply rushing to Sayuki-dono's okiya. However, when I did finally reach the area, I found the inhabitants in a state of panic. I soon found that Sayuki had not returned the previous night. By the sudden look of disappointment on the elder's face when she opened the door to me, I could tell that she had expected me to be Sayuki. I wasn't sure if I felt sorry for her or smug. For all I knew Sayuki-dono could have been picked up by some lecherous thieves. Whatever the case was, she wasn't there and I quickly took my leave. A sense of worry and relief combated with one another. The night I had returned to Kyoto, Aku had spoken to me of the rumors of a someone proposing to be Sayuki's _danna._ It was because she had escaped this fate that I felt relieved, it was her unknown whereabouts that caused the worry. As there was little I could do about this sudden change in plans, I decided I would once again leave Kyoto. First, I would go to Yokohama and then stop at Tokyo. Lately there had been rumors that the Battousai had appeared at the capital. I would go to quell these rumors.

* * *

Takatsuki Toki- I wasn't sure how many people would recognize this name. But if you've ever seen the Samurai X: The motion picture, you'll recognize Toki as one of the characters. Out of the movie, aside from Kaoru, she was one of my favorite characters.

Well, my plans were canceled leaving me with little to do aside from homework. And so I present to you another chapter. You have no idea how much I appreciate the reviews I get. They're what encourages me. Although, I would continue writing even if it were for a single person. Bleh, don't expect an update until Saturday, I'm afraid I'm going to be preoccupied tomorrow.

_Falke_


	5. Our Home

Bleh. I should probably stop saying when you should expect a chapter. XD I got home today, after taking the SAT's and then working for a few hours and promptly fell asleep after reading a few scenes of Hamlet. I promised myself I would get up around six to write this chapter, but apparently I had either slept through the alarm, or unconsciously turned it off. So, because I'm still extremely weary to the bone, I'm going to keep this chapter short and then head back to bed (I should probably stop staying up so late every night). Complain if you will, but it's not like that's going to make me loose any sleep just to try and pacify them. I will however promise to make the next chapter twice as long as usual, to make up for my laziness. Dunno when the next chapter will be, maybe Tuesday, earlier if I have a chance— but I don't want to get your hopes up.

Warning- profanity in the latter section of this chapter.

* * *

Our Home 

I suddenly found myself with a great dilemma. I had no money, none whatsoever. You have to understand that geisha bring a great amount of income in. The entire okiya depends on their geisha to bring in fortune so that they can continue to prosper and feed themselves. But really, most of that fortune goes straight to the okiya.

Besides, ever since I had paid off my initial debt, I had somehow managed to place myself in ANOTHER debt. I have to tell you though, it wasn't my fault. I had been wearing a particularly expensive kimono one night (it was an antique collection, made by one of the more famous kimono makers of the day) when I had stumbled upon a few rogues on my way back to the okiya. Thankfully, I had left with my dignity and life (Himura-san had come by in time to save me—I shall give you details of this adventure another time); however, my clothing was in shambles. Granny charged me for the cost of the kimono, and it put me in a great debt. Ever since my mizuage Granny had been finding ways to charge me; for the most part, I had been always able to pay it off within a few weeks. However, to add the cost of this priceless piece of work plus other trivial debts (I had come down with a terrible cold near the end of the year)—I fond my owe larger than it ever had been before. I had worked off only 3/4ths of it before I had run away.

Either way, a geisha usually does not have money. They simple charge it, asking the vender to charge it to the okiya who gladly pays it while taking it out of the geisha's earnings. It's very seldom that the artisan themselves see the money they make. Mother (who handles the accounting) would have been suspicious had I asked for yen and so I had not bothered. I regret that now. Paying the carriage driver had been easy, I had initially pre-paid him with a small ruby given to me by one of my customers. I had concluded the payment with an ink painting by one of the more famous painters of Kyoto (it was probably more than I should have given him, but in a way, I was buying his silence as well).

Now that I was in Tokyo, I found myself at a loss. I didn't want to sell off what few priceless items I had left, they were after all, gifts. They meant a great deal to me, as most of those men had been good friends of mine. Truly, I did enjoy the entertainment business. I know what your thinking, how could you enjoy being a geisha? Simple, it was fun. You had a chance to make others laugh, to make them HAPPY. Considering there were so many still mourning the loss of the shogunate, it was a very wonderful thing indeed. It wasn't as if I got paid for my body, I'm NOT a prostitute. As I mentioned before, I had no_ danna, _and the only show of skin was the back of neck, and my arms when I slipped the sleeves of my ensemble back to serve tea. It's like a musician getting paid to play, or a dancer to perform, or a waitress to serve drinks—only, I do it all. A good geisha does not necessarily need to be extraordinarily beautiful, simply skilled in her performances. My good friend Keko had been one of the more—how should I put it… more homely?—geisha, and she was almost as talented as I was.

To make a clarification now, and to get rid of any misconceptions, I shall tell you the difference between a prostitute and a geisha (in both appearance and payment). A prostitute gets paid for every person she sleeps with. Because of this, you'll find a prostitute dresses differently than a geisha. They knot their obi in the front, as they have no time to waste on the intricate tie that geisha use in the back. It makes things easier for their costumers and makes the time go by quickly. They also make less than a geisha does, probably not even a tenth of what a geisha brings in A geisha gets paid by time. Usually however many incense sticks have burned during their time of stay. They don't do any of this "sleeping" with their costumers (unless it's their _danna_), as I said before, that would mar their reputation. A geisha is schooled in many different forms of art: tea ceremony, music, and dancing. They continue to go to this schooling that started at a young age, even after they have become geisha. The more famous geisha and more talented would specialize in dance (modesty aside, I myself have been known as one of the better dancers); however, there are few who are talented enough to go into this area. The geisha show no part of their body other than what I mentioned before, unless it's to their _danna_. The face, the neck, and the back are covered in a white powder, and only the slightest bit of skin is left on the back of the neck. This was a type of allurement, similar to western women showing off a calf. This, my friends, is the difference between a geisha and a prostitute.

So there I was, standing in front of the gates, my parcels behind me and the key to the lock in my hands (they had given it to me on my birthday). Tentatively, I slipped the key in, and turned, watching satisfyingly as the lock clicked open and slipped off when I tugged upon it. Slipping it into the folds of my obi along with it's key, I pressed upon the door, and watched admiringly as it scraped open as I ventured forward, pushing upon it. The sight was not something magnificent, not something like the grand estates I had often visited, but it was home. A distant home, but a home none-the-less. For the first time since the loss of Shura, I felt my eyes watering. This time, I allowed them to slip from my face, ruining my makeup. I didn't care. For that moment, I forgot about my money troubles, my posture, the need to preserve my makeup. I simple wandered the dojo, allowing the near-forgotten setting to set in. Memories that I had locked away rushed through me, and I soon found myself in my fathers room, sobbing. It had been 12 years, twelve long and painful years. That night, for the first time, I had slept deeply.+

--

A sense of panic washed over me when the gate began to open. Frantically, I had no choice but to hideaway. You have no idea how lucky I was that she did not visit the bathhouse that night. My name is Myojin Yahiko, I live in this dojo. Well… sorta—not really. Damn her! I don't understand why this person would return now of all times. Granted, this wasn't exactly my turf, I sorta snuck in here you see-- but geez! That ugly whore had better not stay long—she needs to go back to where she came from! Ok, maybe she isn't ugly, I haven't really gotten a good long look at her, just her back. She's pretty loaded, for the most part, really pretty; though I bet her face is hideous. I should probably snitch an item or two tonight. That kimono looked as if it could by out my old home!

UGH! This is so undignified, I can't believe I'm hiding away in the bathroom. But damn, she explored almost every nook and cranny of the place. You'd think she'd never seen a dojo before. Hell… I wouldn't be able to stay here tonight, she'll probably come having to piss later or something. Oh well, the boss needed me tonight. Damn him—damn her! Maybe she'll be gone by tomorrow, it didn't look as if she had brought a lot of things. Well, then again, I didn't exactly mess with any of the possessions of this pad. I don't believe in stealing from a dead man's home. No one told me he had a daughter!

Knowing that she was asleep, I slipped out of the dry bath, and ambled over to the gate. GEEZ! She didn't even bother locking it. What a moron! I pull down the shaft of wood that acts as a lock for her, and climb the wall through the tree that I had come in through. I owe a great debt to this gang in town, you see, they had paid for my mother's hospital bills, kinda took me in. Well, not really—I hate their guts, but I have to repay them. I'm sick and tired of this thieving business though, damn them. Once I'm free, I'll make a real living, the honest way. I'll pay back every penny I ever snitched. This girl's fortune could bring me out of debt. I'll come back to snitch something later, and pay her back gradually. I'll be damned if I lose my pride because of a bunch of stupid gangsters. Any who, the boss was waiting— I'll probably get a beating for making him wait. Damn him, and damn her for making me hide so long.

* * *

+Because of the schooling that geisha attend during the day, and the parties or banquets they go to at night, a geisha usually didn't return to the okiya until really late at night. A really busy geisha, like Kaoru probably didn't get more than 4 hours every night, possibly less. 

Yahiko was hard to write. I'm not accustomed to talking in consistent slang, so I'm sorry if I didn't get as in character as it should have been. Oh well, ce la vie. Anyways, until another time. Review, bitte! Goodnight.

* * *

Happyloveygirl- I love your screen name, it makes me giggle for some reason. Sorry I had no insert from Kenshin's POV this time, hope you're not too disappointed. Although, I do really like writing Kenshin's part. 

Lady Dark Angel- thank you! I know this one's even shorter, I find amusement in "teasing." I might even lengthen the updates to one a month, just because I'm sadist. Kidding, I'm glad you enjoy it.

Nanie-san- School is a pain, don't you think? I hate having to wait to read the rest of a chapter because of school. I usually open up a story during graphic design or web mastering and end up not getting to finish it after school and work. The anticipation is agonizing!

Tenshi n'Ongaku- Actually, I'm surprised that I'm updating so much, myself. Most of my other stories I haven't touched in weeks—months. And those updates were like a chapter a month. There's just something about this story that makes me want to write. Maybe it's just because all of this research is fascinating. I'm glad that my story has held your attention so far, I don't want to disappoint you!

Alaine- gosh, you make me so sad. It's like I'm not updating enough. X.x sorry, I would do two chapters a day, but with school, work, clubs, and the infinite amount of applications I have to fill out, I'm afraid I'm struggling to even do one a day. Sorry!

Emumoon- aww.. you made me blush! Thank you, I hope you enjoyed this one as well.


	6. Tokyo Samurai

Oh, BTW- I thought I might warn you, this chapter isn't as "exciting" as the rest. Paragraphs 4-7 describes how a kimono is worn, just to warn you. You can skip over that section if you want, but really, I thought it was interesting.

Again, profanity wherever Yahiko is concerned.

* * *

Tokyo Samurai 

It took a moment for me to register exactly where I was. After all, it's not ever day that you wake up to a strange place. Groggily, I sat up, rubbing a fist across my eyes. The sun stung them, and it took a few moments for me to become accustomed to the streaming rays coming through the window. It was only then did I realize that I had destroyed my hairstyle. A soft groan escaped my lips at that thought, I had gone to the hairstylist only a few days ago!

You see, a geisha has to sleep a certain way, there's a special pillow that we use. Or, I suppose it isn't really a pillow, simply a padded block, with curve on the top where the neck rests. This keeps the head from falling back and allowing oneself to crush their hairstyle in their sleep. It took me weeks to learn to sleep like this and not ruin my hair. We use this because the hairstyles are so intricate (and painful to put into); a geisha might go weeks before changing hairstyles, and so, to say the least, we don't wash our hair until changing our hairstyle. This is perhaps why hair ornaments are so personal to the geisha. We never share our ornaments; it would not only be slightly disgusting, but similar to sharing ones underwear. For, you never know how long it has been since the other geisha had washed her hair.

Sighing, I decided it would be best that I first decide how I was going to go about getting some money before I went to the stylist again. This was both a depressing and pleasant thought. Depressing because I still had yet no idea on what to do (I would probably end up selling another item) and pleasant because I would be able to wash my hair. With that thought in mind, I fixed a bath for myself (I was however puzzled to find a rolled up futon in there, but brushed it aside) and dressed in a _komon_ kimono—yellow with small violet flowers. I settled for a simple knot, one of the few I did know, _Bunko Musubi._ I couldn't do anything elaborate, as I didn't have a dresser as of yet.

I'm not sure if I mentioned it before, I know I spoke of the differences between how a prostitute dresses and geisha, but I don't think I mentioned the difference between a geisha and house wife. They both wear kimonos; they both tie the obi in the back, but they wear their clothing with just a slight difference. Allow me to explain. A house wife will wear padding beneath the kimono so that it doesn't bunch up. This results in the hiding of any figure and their body looks perfectly straight with no curves. A geisha, who wears a kimono so often and well, does not need this padding (or at least most don't, I imagine that some house wives do not as well, if they have the figure).

Both housewife and geisha will first put on a _koshimaki_, then a on top of that, a short-sleeved kimono undershirt. This is where the housewife would add the pads. After that, they will put on an under robe (tied just above the waist). There are times when a geisha will have to lift the hem of her kimono, such as in dances or climbing a carriage or steps. Because of this, the robe must coordinate with the kimono. A collar must be sewn onto the robe every day and removed later for cleaning, for the silk collar on the robe will be shown as well. Apprentice geisha (known as_ maiko)_ will wear a red collar, registered geisha will wear a white.

Then, the kimono is put on, the left side always covers the right. (A geisha usually wears a _furisode _while a married woman will probably where a_ komon _kimono to be more practical.) If you didn't know before, kimonos come in one size for all women. They don't have specific sizes for specific heights, what clothing maker would wish to have to create a specific kimono for every specific person that comes in? The extra fabric is tucked and folded beneath the sash. A skilled dresser would fold the kimono so perfectly that the geisha could wear it as it were a second skin, without a single crease or buckle. The kimono is then secured by a tie called a date-obi.

Then comes the obi; this is where the dresser comes in. You see, an obi can be almost the length of a room, most of the time, longer than ten feet. It usually covers from right below the breasts down to just above the hips; it covers the entire waist. Unlike men, women tie the obi in the center of the back. There are different sort of knots that it can be tied in. One of the most common for single women to wear is the _buno musubi_, but the typical married wearer will use a _taiko musubi_; I usually use an_ otateya _because of the many formal occasions that I attend. I assure you, tying an obi perfectly is no simple task; it involves the user of several clasps and pillows called _makura _to get the knot to fluff and roll just right. THEN you have the obi-age and obi-jime. The obi-age is somewhat like a scarf that wraps around the obi and is tucked inside it. This gives that frill effect emerging from the top of the obi. And the obi-jime is a chord that is tied around the obi. In fact, a professional kimono dresser can make quite a living, although it takes years just to learn all of the different types of knots.

Sometime I wish I were a man, **they** don't have to go through all of this trouble, or at least I could have lived in the beginning of the Edo era. At that time, the obi's were tied in the front or the side, rather than the back (it became popular in the 1700's to tie it there), but, unfortunately, I found myself in the Meiji. You can also imagine that all of that clothing is heavy. The first time I had donned the full ensemble, I had to strain myself to keep from collapsing after the day had ended.

I admit, wearing the simple kimono was strange, more so as I had not put on makeup; it felt as if I were naked. So, I decided that I would spend the day buying suitable clothing. You see, I don't own any _komon_, and the night before, when I entered my mothers room, I suddenly didn't want to wear her clothing, the one I was wearing was out of pure necessity. I found that I didn't want to mar what few possessions of hers I do own. Thus, I found myself in yet another predicament— I couldn't bear to wear any of her formal clothing. How could I don her kimonos to entertain men other than my father? It was as if I were betraying my parents. Suddenly, for the first time, I felt ashamed to be a geisha. I know that while they would be proud that I had learned so many things that only accumulate onto the image of a lady, but I also knew that they would not have wanted this life for me. They would have me grow and marry, to have a family, to be supported. This onslaught of emotions was almost enough to cause me to once again cry.

After composing myself, and cursing myself for being so weak willed at the time, I tucked a few selected pieces of jewelry, from my less favorable customers and headed towards the market. While I was reluctant to part with such treasures, I found that I had little choice. I needed yen to get my hair done and hire a dresser. Not to mention, I needed food. Pawning off my possessions turned out to be simple and profitable. Dividing it up, I tucked a certain amount away for the stylist and dresser and decided to use to the rest to buy a few _komon _garments and groceries.

--

Well, I was right. The boss gave me a thrashing for making him wait last night, thankfully he didn't add to the payment I owe. I don't care what they say, they are a _Bōryokudan_. Bastards. HAH! And the yakuza refer to themselves as a _ninkyo danta_. As if, there's **nothing** chivalrous about them. But damn, am I sore. The streets seem to be more crowded than usual today. There's a rumor in that's going around that a ghost had been sighted at the Kamiya dojo. What a joke. But I guess that lady was scary enough to be considered as such. Damn Ugly. Why couldn't she be someone pretty? If I'm gonna get kicked out of my own home (well—sorta.), then at least let it be by a pretty NICE lady.

Speaking of beautiful... My eyes trail a certain young lady that's ambling the streets. She's dressed like any other citizen, except her long raven hair was tied up in a pony tail. How odd. There's something vaguely familiar about her, her skin is smooth, lips curled in the faintest of smiles. Her eyes were lowered and I found myself just itching to get a sight of them. She walked with a grace I had never seen before, and it seemed odd that this lady was amongst the norm. She seemed much too good to be waltzing about with the common citizens. Vaguely, I had the distant impression that this lady was the same lady who had intruded upon my dojo. But I brushed that aside, the lady from the night before had walked about with such haste such urgency that she couldn't possibly be the demure and passive girl I saw before me now.

What really caught my eye was the large purse she brought out when she bought a few fruits. Obviously she was loaded; I watched as she tucked it back into her obi. For a moment, I stood there, torn between guilt and determination. Surely it would be alright, I would pay her back. Having pacified my doubts, I began to casually stride forward. Purposely, I stumbled into a man a burly man; he seemed rough around the edge, a tough guy if you know what I mean. As expected (these type of guys are so predictable), he shoved me to the side; I made sure to stumble back into the lady. Just as planned, we both went down, and as we fell I quickly snatched her purse, and tucked it into my sleeve.

I really should be a kabuki actor. I mean, I'm just THAT good. I pretended to be mortified, helped her up, and even picked up her groceries. Hell, I even bowed several apologies. Damn her. She didn't even get mad, just gave me that soft smile—I thought my heart would stop and then bowed! Of all the things to do, she apologized, saying it was HER fault. When she straightened, I finally caught her gaze. Damn, I don't think I've ever seen eyes like THAT before. Blue, almost sapphire. I bowed one more time and hastily left. If I had stayed any longer, I would've given the damn money back.

I turned into an alley, pressing my back against the wall. I think my stomach might've knotted itself up just to spite me. I could almost hear my heart beat, and my hands trembled. I don't think I've ever felt so guilty. Distantly, I could hear the murmur of a couple passing by the mouth of the street. Something about how horrible it was that her money got stolen. Apparently the lady already found her money missing. Damn, sometimes I hate myself.

--

Such a nice and mannerly boy. The child who had just run into me seemed so innocent. It's hard to find a young man with those manners these days, and I thought it awful rude of that burly man to shove the kid. I watched as he hastily walked away, I suppose he might've been embarrassed. How cute. When he turned the corner, I directed my gaze back to a stall, finding a pair of geta that I wanted, I was going to pay for it when found my pouch of money gone! The other half (for the dresser and stylist) was still there, but the majority of it that I had put away for clothing and food had disappeared. I began to look about, and apparently the stall owner knew something had gone awry. I explained to him that I seemed to misplace my purse; he explained to me that many people had found their money stolen lately. I felt like such a fool; how could I miss something like that!

Upset and angry, I made my way home. I unlocked the gate, and shoved it open, only to see the back of a young boy. He turned, and there, right before my eyes, was the same boy who I had run into in the market. How did he get in? Suddenly, in rush, an epiphany if you will, I understood: the futon in the bathroom, the gate being locked from the inside earlier that day, this boy running into me in the market. He was a pickpocket. A pickpocket living in **my** home. Cute… yeah right, I was a fool. It was the first time I had ever raised my voice to anyone. The first time I had let my anger control me, I stomped forward.

--

"YOU LITTLE BRAT!"

Shit... I knew I shouldn't have come back. After I had snitched the purse from that lady, I had come back to the dojo, hoping to snitch some of the owner's things, and to get my own stuff out of the place. However, right when I jumped out of the tree and landed on the ground, the gate opened. Damn… I've the worst of luck. I turned around. It was **her.** The same lady from the streets. I suddenly realized how wrong I was, this **was** the same lady from last night. Damn. I backed away, she was faster, I found my haori in her clasps, her angry face glaring down at me.

And here I thought she was so nice, so angelic, what a riot. She was pretty strong for a girl. I began to struggle.

"Leggo! Let me go, UGLY!" I shouted, struggling, her hold grew tighter. I thought about just hitting her, but decided against it. My mother would haunt me for the rest of my life if I did.

"Who're you calling ugly, stupid!" Who did she think I was calling ugly? Wasn't like there was anybody else here.

"You, UGLY!" That's obvious.

Suddenly, she let me go. What the hell! I found another purse pushed into the palm of my hand. She was giving me money, said something along the lines of "Brat, don't get caught next time". She said that to ME. Suddenly, that overwhelming guilt from before became too unbearable. First she apologized when I was the one who snitched something from her, and now she was pitying me. Damn her. She was walking away by now, thinking to go inside. I don't know what came over me, but that guilt combined with anger just exploded, and I found myself throwing both of those damned purses at her head. I hope it hurt.

"I'm not a "brat"! I'm Myojin Yahiko—a Tokyo samurai. I haven't fallen far enough to be pitied by a stranger! I was just testing you because you lived in a dojo, don't get the wrong idea." She just gave me that stupid smile of hers, and I stalked away. Damn the yakura. Damn **her.**

--

As I looked at his angry, panic face, all the anger I harbored melted away. I don't know if he realized it, but there were tears in his eyes. Why would such a young boy resort to stealing? Simple. Obviously he had no choice. I was suddenly reminded of myself. Geisha don't become geisha because they want to, they do it because they have no choice. I found myself looking at a child who might have been in my shoes had been a girl, and I distantly thought that had I been anything but female, I might have ended up just like him. So, I let him go, pressing the rest of my money into his hands. I could always sell the some more scrolls. I had found some ink painting in the shed the night before, from a grandfather I believe—those held more sentimental value than the ones I received in Kyoto anyways.

"Brat, don't get caught next time." With that, I began to make my way inside. Suddenly, just as I was sliding the door open, I felt a sharp pain in my head. Wincing, I glanced back, sending the coldest glare I possibly could at the child. The nerve of that brat!

"I'm not a "brat"! I'm Myojin Yahiko— a Tokyo samurai. I haven't fallen far enough to be pitied by a stranger! I was just testing you because you lived in a dojo, don't get the wrong idea." Samurai huh? Cute. He began to walk away, and when he turned, that was when I noticed the large bruise on his cheek. I began to think, perhaps he doesn't really want to do this, perhaps it isn't simply because he has no choice. Perhaps it's because someone was forcing him to do it. I grabbed bokken that was leaning against the wall, and began to follow him.

Just as I expected, I followed him to a hill, hiding behind a tree to watch him. Not to long afterwards two men came and spoke with him. Yahiko seemed angry, I distinctly heard him say that he was tired of the thieving business. It took all of my will power to restrain from jumping out when of the men hit him over the head with a club. I watched as the man who attacked (he had a funny hair style, all of it was pointed to one side, I think his partner called him Gasuke-san) hoisted Yahiko onto his shoulder. I followed them to their hideaway. I could hear them talking inside, sounded like they were playing some sort of game.

Bracing myself, and cursing myself for not having changed (I was still in a kimono), I slid the door open. All noise ceased. I feigned innocent, I didn't need makeup and a silk kimono to charm scum like them. When one of them approached me, I deftly brought the wooden blade down upon their shoulder. This of course brought everybody's attention. Yahiko pleaded for them to not let me get involved, cursed me for being stupid. I suppose some people just don't know how to show gratitude.

--

She's an idiot. An absolute idiot. Somehow they had managed to work out some sort of deal. My fate over a game. Geez, don't I feel special. Like I said, she's an idiot. Didn't she know that the dice were rigged? Knowing I had little choice, I attacked Gasuke, and was promptly thrown back. As I was thrown, I switched the dice in one of the lackeys hands. The game commenced. Somehow, she won. Damn, she'd be a great gambler. Of course, Gasuke and the boys didn't like this, they got up and brought out their weapons. Idiot. She still hadn't figured it out. I approached her, back to her, arms spread. The least I could do is try and protect her.

"Don't you get it? Do you really think they're gonna let you go now?" I mumbled to her. She said something to Gasuke, about how they had a deal. Then they attacked. I fought the best I could—honest, but what can you do against a group without a weapon? I found myself thrust against a wall, and watching as they surrounded her. I don't think I will ever be able to forget what happened next.

--

They hurt him! Those **jerks**! Suddenly, they surrounded me. They seemed to lunge towards me one by one. Truly, I haven't been in a fight ever. As I mentioned before, I've practiced here and there, but this was the first time I had actually had to use anything I learned. Believe me when I say what I learned was very little. However, I have been trained, quite thoroughly in the art of dance. I was reminded of this dance between usually a somewhat large group of geisha. It was a story of how these samurai were fighting for the hand of certain damiyo's daughter. I had often played the part of one of the victor samurai. This was one of the few dances that could be impromptu. It's why I enjoyed it so much, except rather than using a fan, I now had a real weapon. I allowed myself to imagine that it was the same situation. It was a blessing that these people weren't considerably talented in the art of swords. Brute strength was all they had, no grace whatsoever. Somehow, I managed to take the man named Gasuke down. It was a sort of pattern for me, dodge, dodge, block, strike. My moves were limited as I was in a kimono, so it took some time. But these people were impatient and the longer it took, the more panicked they became and the clumsier they were. I suppose it was a combination of natural instincts, the intense training of a dancing, and the small amount of defensive training I had learned that allowed me to continue on. After taking down Gasuke, Yahiko seemed to come to his senses and even picked up a club to help.

Suddenly, a voice commanded everyone to stop. I had no doubt that if we had continued any longer, we probably would have lost, but those low lives didn't need to know that. The speaker seemed to be the boss of the group. He told us to just go, for me to take the boy, that he didn't want his gang to be disgraced because they were beat by of all things, a girl.

We left, but I knew that they would come and track us down later, perhaps in a week or so. Yahiko was silent, but I could tell he was following by the soft pit pat of his zori. I didn't know what I was going to do now, surely those yakuza would be back later. I didn't really think I do what I did again. At least, I doubted it. And what did I expect to happen now that the boy was free? I couldn't just thrust him out into the world—he'd starve to death. The silence was soon broken; however, his words surprised me. I think I angered him when I laughed.

"Please, teach me."

--

She doesn't really know that much about the Kamiya Kasshin style. I felt like an idiot. How the hell. She had winged it. But I knew there was more to it, no one can fight with such grace and not have some sort of training. However, no matter how much I pressed her, she just laughed and said that she had only a little training in the style, that she wouldn't be a suitable teacher. Bull.

Then, as we entered the gates of her home, she paused and glanced back at me. "We'll learn together. I'll teach you as I learn, but in return, as a student, you must live here and certain chores." I don't think she realized how ridiculous that sounded; teach me as she learned? What did she think I was stupid? I guess that was her way of offering me help. Though, I had to admit, I had no where else to stay, and I didn't particularly want to leave. Besides, in a world where swords where banned, it was hard to find a teacher nowadays.

"Yeah, we'll learn together…"

--

There it was, Tokyo. This is where my imposter was hiding. Whoever it was, to harm innocent citizens in my name—who had fought to protect the citizens of Japan—would not be forgiven. Sakabato at my side, I entered Tokyo._

* * *

_

_koshimaki-_ A hip-wrap.

_Komon-_A fabric that is simple, with geometric patterns and usually more casual. Most housewives would wear kimonos made out of this with a length, meaning the shortest.

_Furisode-_A type of kimono with long flowing leaves, usually almost touching the floor. Single women and girls would wear this for special occasions. The long sleeves supposedly beckon men towards the wearer.

_buno musubi-_A box bow, worn by single women on special occasions and with a summer kimono. It resembles a large bow.

_taiko musubi- _Drum Tying. This is a drum bow that can be worn by anyone, particularly popular with married women. It's plain and simple, looks like a square box.

_Otateya- _Arrow. Usually worn by brides. It's popular with single girls on formal occasions. It's always worn with furisode kimonos. It's extremely beautiful and complex.

_Makura- _Small pillows tucked within the obi knot to help support and shape it.

_Bōryokudan__- _A term that can be applied to any violent criminal. It literally means "violence groups" Supposedly, Yakuza members consider it an insult.

_ninkyo danta_.- chivalrous organizations. Some yakuza favor themselves as a "robin hood" type group. The yakuza members refer to themselves as that.

There are also different types of kimonos, different styles for different occasions depending on marital status, the time of year, ect. I decided not to go too far into this since there were so many that I thought my head was gonna explode when I began to read about it.

The descriptions on how to wear a kimono was taken from the novel, as well as various other sources.

The conversation between Yahiko and Kaoru when Kaoru discovers him in the dojo was taken from the first book in the Rurouni Kenshin series, and slightly altered.

* * *

Eh, I wouldn't quote me on all that information. Wouldn't be surprised if I was wrong in one or two points, but as far as I know, I think it's correct. No promises though. I think I might've rushed this chapter, sorry about that. I'll probably go back and change it in a few weeks or something. Hopefully you enjoyed it anyways. Comments, questions, ect? Review!

* * *

kobakawa reisha- Are you saying that the Chinese look like the Japanese? I resent that! Just kidding. I thought she looked familiar, my brother says the previews looked like a mix between Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon and exotic dancing. I didn't understand what he meant until I actually watched the preview itself. I didn't realize it was the same woman who was on several of the old movies Jet Li played in. She's one of my favorite Chinese actresses, so it makes me even more excited to see the movie.Happyloveygirl- I was gonna end at "We'll learn together" but then I thought of you. Short, but I did insert a Kenshin POV just for you. :3 

Clemen- Danke. As requested, here's the update. And take care yourself.

Nanie-san- Of yes, it was sooo much fun. +insert eye rolling here+ Probably just as much fun as the PSAT. It's good to take it as a junior, heck, I should've taken the new SAT when I was a junior (I took the old one but was to lazy to do the new one until now).I regret that I waited. Yeah, Kaoru is planning to work as a geisha in town, but that's all I'm going to say. I dun wanna go into the details of the debt situation and spoil the story for you. Do you happen to know when the movie is coming out?

Falke


	7. To School We Go

To School We Go

"Yahiko, you're not aggressive enough!" I reprimanded him; his mind seemed to be drifting a lot lately. He acted as if he hadn't heard me; so, I retaliated with a swift (yet light) blow to the head. Of course, that made the child start to complain. I sometimes wonder what in the world ever gave me the idea to take him in. It's because of his studies that I have yet to return to the life of a geisha. He doesn't know what I was yet, and at this point, I've learned exactly what my housemate is like; should he hear about my life as a geisha-- he'd never let me hear the end of it. It's been 6 days since I took Yahiko in and I've enjoyed every day. I think, had I the talent, I could live solely as a teacher, but there have been no new recruits. Not many are fond of having their children taught by a woman. My return into the entertainment world is inevitable.

That evening, I ventured to the local _kenban_ and registered myself as an independent geisha as well as a student in the local school for geisha. Scheduling myself for morning classes, I made sure that any requests must be for evening appointments. This way, I was sure I would be able to juggle training with Yahiko, my schooling, and my life as a geisha all in a day. Of course, this meant that I would not be receiving much sleep, but that was not much of a concern for me. My schooling and entertainment hours would be cut because of the need to teach Yahiko. That was also of little concern to me-- I was certain with the limit on when I could be requested, my presence (once I established myself) would be that much more in demand.

That same evening, I went to the stylist the registrar at the _kenban_ has suggested. Tokyo geisha were slightly less conservative than the ones from where I had come from. Having a non-traditional hairstyle wouldn't be too detrimental to one's career, in fact—it might even heighten it, what with most women now taking on western fashion. The hairstylist was friendly, unbiased, and helpful. He helped me design a style that wouldn't require the wax most styles used. We decided on something simple—several strands on either side of my face hanging loosely so that they swooped down to frame my face before being tied up in a bun in the back. From the bun, hair cascaded from beneath it to end about mid back. He carefully demonstrated how he put it up and where to place the combs so that it would stay. This way, I would be able to fix my hair on my own without having to worry about mussing it.

My plans were careful and precise. It wasn't that I was ashamed of being a geisha. No, I simply did not want my reputation as Sayuki ruined. Should word get out that Kamiya Karou, the tomboy kendo instructor and Sayuki the famed geisha were one in the same—I shuddered to think how fast I would be ostracized from every teahouse in Tokyo. In the mornings, I would attend classes and teach Yahiko afterwards. Evenings were reserved for any requests with the excuse to Yahiko of a nighttime job. Of course, at the time, I had not thought about the past incident in which Yahiko had come under my care. Perhaps things had been going so well that I had simply forgotten about that threat.

I wasn't worried about anyone recognizing me as both Kaoru and Sayuki. As Sayuki, I'd be heavily made up, my voice would have to be soft and gentle, and as my eyes would be constantly lowered—pretending to be less strong willed. Even I admit, the two were so contrasting in attitudes, that sometimes even I believed perhaps I was insane. Sometimes, my feigning as Sayuki just seemed so natural.

Yahiko received the biggest surprise of his life the next morning.

--

"WHAT!"

This was unacceptable! I can take her cooking, I can take her teaching at other schools, but why did she have to be so damn masochistic? So I'm not a scholar—in fact, I've never been to school. But—dammit!

--

I suppressed a laugh as his face heated in anger. Knowing that he was irritated and resentful. The fact that he couldn't say no only brought more amusement at his expense. Of course, the tale I told him about where I was working would be lies. But he didn't need to know that. I had told him that I would be teaching in other cities in the evenings and would be returning late from this point on. Yahiko would never know that I wasn't home in the mornings—he would be at school. Hence, his immense frustration.

I allowed myself to indulge in the reaction of his shock that morning. He had once again insulted my food, and rather than insult him back, I replied in a rather airy voice (I was highly amused by this point), "You'd better eat fast Yahiko. We need to leave early so that we can enroll you into a school before the classes start." Of course, as he would have classes in the mornings, he certainly couldn't come with me to the other dojos at night; young boys needed their sleep.

I bit back a smirk as he almost choked on his food.

"WHAT!"

--

I am not going. There's no stinking way she's going to get me into that school. Why the hell would she spend money to put me in school anyway? So what if I can't read and write? Who the heck needs to? All I need is to be able to use a sword. Damn her. If I had my shinai with me right now, I would throw the damn thing at her head—forget about honor. Sheesh!

However, I have to admit, she doesn't look half as ugly in a kimono. The school looks like it was made for politician's children. Why the hel-heck did it have to be a private school? It's not like I'm going to be a scholar or anything. Man…

--

As expected, the school was large, newly built, and a private school. Of course, there were some public schools in Tokyo, but I didn't want to put Yahiko in a school where they might rebel. Suspicions against Western beliefs have been strong lately and I don't want to risk the boy's education just because the local citizens don't agree with the sudden westernization. A private school would be much more stable. I suppose I felt somewhat obligated to care for Yahiko-chan. As his teacher, I wanted to instill not only a firm background in martial arts, but also a well-founded education. Swordsmanship is all well and good, but he needed something that could provide him a good future should teaching fail him.

As I wouldn't officially start classes until the next day, I went home, put on my makeup, and decorate my hair with some combs. Afterwards, I left to visit the teahouses and to introduce myself to the mistresses of those establishments. I aimed for the better-known teahouses, as low-class establishments wouldn't help in raising my reputation at all. After visiting the teahouses, I paid a visit to the Ryoku okiya. As it wasn't one of the more prestigious houses, it suited my needs perfectly. For a small portion of my earnings, the mistress of the okiya agreed to allow me to use their dresser as well as borrow their kimonos on a daily basis. Thus, my schedule was complete.

Allow me to elaborate, in the mornings I would go to classes. Then, I would teach Yahiko in the afternoon. Afterwards, I would secretly take whatever I had chosen to wear the previous evening to the Ryoku, and there I would properly be dressed and made up. After the appointments of the evenings, I would return to the okiya where I would change into my training cloths and pick up a kimono for the following day. It was simple.

Bidding farewell to the mother of the okiya, I turned to go to a busier section of Tokyo. However, as I stepped down the street, I thought I saw the briefest flash of red disappear into an alleyway. Perhaps it was just my imagination.

--

I knew that scent-- that voice. Without seeing her face, I knew it was Sayuki. I was careful to make sure she didn't see me yet. I wanted my appearance to be a surprise, as well as the news I would bring her. Before leaving Kyoto, I had spoken with the okiya's mistress regarding Sayuki's debts. After much arguing, she allowed this unworthy one to pay it off for her. I made a mental note to visit one of the more expensive teahouses that evening. Perhaps a small party was in order. A few politicians who had heard of my arrival had invited me to a small banquet to which I had declined. Knowing that it was likely that Sayuki would drop by, I decided perhaps the dinner was not such a bad idea after all. Watching her disappear down the road, I too turned to inform the invitee that I would be attending the night's celebration afterall.

* * *

Kenban- Geisha registry office. They manage all of the geisha's appointments, ect… 

Education- I wouldn't quote me on this, but from what I've read, I believe, at the beginning of Meiji, public education became more important (before that, most schools were held in Confucius temples). Japan wanted an educational system that could compete with the West, so more primary schools, middle schools, and universities were founded. Public education was available till 9th grade. However, as several people were wary of the sudden westernization, there were some how were skeptic about the schooling, so school burning's weren't uncommon.

* * *

I'm so sorry about the long wait! I'm also apologize for how short this chapter is.As you've probably guessed, I won't be able to update quite as quickly as I did when I first started writing this. .! I had signed up for the school musical, so I found my days stuck in 4 hour rehearsals everyday. But sadly, the performances are over now, so I'm not always returning home at ungodly times in the night. However, I'm afraid now I've my hands full with work, band, school clubs, and trying to get into college. I'll try to update at least twice a month. (Sorry!)

Did I meantion that I'm a glutton for reviews? o.o

Edit: Thanks to chibi oniyuri who pointed out the change from first person to third at the end. X.x Terribly sorry! It's been changed now. 


	8. Interlude:

AN: So, this is a little drabble that I worked on. It's NOT intended to be part of the story line, but a branch off-- a What if scenerio.

Interlude:

I met an interesting woman today, she called herself Kaoru. A remarkable woman, she was. Fiery, strong, spirited—everything one might expect in a samurai, it's a pity that women like that aren't respected more. I certainly found a certain fascination with the girl. She's quite unlike anything I've ever seen, a paradox to any woman that I've found attractive. She certainly isn't Sayuki.

Sayuki: kind, delicate, gentle. It's hard to think that she could share even a slight similarity in appearance with this Kaoru. Although, it's only their eye color. But whereas one is gentle, the other is fierce. They share the same hair color too, but that's to be expected, it's hard NOT to find a raven haired Japanese in Japan.

Yet, despite their differences, I'm finding myself equally drawn to one, as I am to the other. And here I am, claiming myself to be in love. What a fool I am! To love two women… disgusting. A shame I can't have them both.


	9. His Thoughts

_Alright. I know I said I'd have a chapter out this week. And I didn't mean to lie! I do have it written, it's just not completely edited yet; however, I've seem to have run into a large dilemma. My computer caught a virus –sob- and crashed. T.T Fortunately, the virus only infected my C drive, in which I have nothing of real importance, and luckily I had backed everything up on that drive before it crashed. And seeing as how this wasn't my first can't-seem-to-rid-myself-of-a-virus experience, I was smart enough to save all important files including all chapters of my fics onto a separate drive after my first experience of this. When I reformat, it shouldn't affect my other drive. But sadly, (probably the reason why I couldn't get rid of the virus in the first place), I have no knowledge of how to fix computers whatsoever. So, my computer won't be reformatted until my brother has the time to come home, which probably won't be till Sunday, and chances are he won't have finished it by then. So it might take longer. However! When my precious baby is fixed, I promise that I'll release 2 chapters for you all, rather than just one. In the mean time, here's the beginning of what I can remember of the next chapter. I'm sorry, it's only what I managed to type up during web mastering! But I assure you, my pain is greater than yours._

* * *

**Chapter 8: His thoughts**

No one has any idea the extent to which I hate Sayuki. She took the only thing I had away from me—my Yumi. Here is a woman greater than all others, even greater than the renowned Geisha Yuki. And she could have been all MINE. And then SHE stepped in the way. The sniveling little brat. Although, I suppose some thanks should be given to her. She did help me realize this… how does one say it? Passion? Not of the lover's sort. Bloodlust. Yes, that's it: bloodlust. Yumi's absence fanned the hatred I have for the imperialists. I've always despised them, but Sayuki's meddling only caused it grow. If it weren't for them, I wouldn't have to live with these burns—I would have a name, a standing to which even Yumi's okira couldn't deny. And yet, even with this--- imperfection, Yumi was completely devoted. I'll not stand for this. I will have her one way or another, even if I have to raze Japan to the ground to make them see that I'm worthy—that I'm the strongest. And perhaps a little payback on a certain geisha isn't such a bad idea. Yumi…. Wait for me.

* * *

The sharp knock to the head was a wonderful wake-up call. Although, the sniggers of my temporary classmates was the most stinging. Damn brats. I guess if I actually attempted to stay away, the teacher wouldn't have to warn me so much. But da— heck. It's just so friggin boring! I mean, it's bad enough that I've gotta learn how to read… but why do I have to sit with these snot nosed kids! I'm at least twice their height! I tried to suppress my yawn, but from the looks of the teacher, he seems to have noticed it anyways. This sucks. Thank god! It's over.

I begin to make my way towards the room's door, my new books cradles in my arms. I wonder how much it would cause Busu if I burned them?

"Myojin-chan… Could you wait a moment?" Damn, why does the teacher have to call me that? Just because I'm in a class with a bunch of little kids doesn't mean that I'm one of them.

"What do you want?" I turn back towards him, forming the biggest sneer I can muster. Can't let them think that I actually enjoyed those 'reminders' to wake up, can I? With a great sigh, I made my to take the seat that he indicated. Oh great… I'm in trouble. He's not gonna beat me is he….? He's an idiot if he thinks I'm gonna stay for something like that. To hell with Kaoru's generosity-- it's not like it costs her anything for me to be here anyways.

"Yahiko, you're aware that entrance to this school takes a lot of dedication and hard work, correct?" said the good-for-nothing teacher.

"Yeah, yeah."

"Then you are also aware that maintaining one's presence in this school takes a large portion of one's purse."

"WHAT! I thought that public education was free!" Yeah, so that was a surprise. I thought that school had become free for society at the end of the revolution.

He gave me a strange look, as if asking how the hell did I not know that I was in an elite school—the best in Tokyo in fact. "Only public schools, Yahiko. This is a private institution. Well, not you are aware that your moth—"

"She's not my mother!"

He looked sorta embarrassed, "benefactor than, is placing a good portion of her earnings into getting you a good education. And while at this moment, you've been placed with the younger class, once you catch up to your peers, you'll be moved up. I don't think it is very… grateful of you to waste your benefactors purse like this—sleeping in class, and all together refusing to learn anything. She obviously cares for you a great deal; it is unfair of you to repay her generosity like this. I know that this is only your first day, but I must insist that this sort of behavior is not repeated."

I'll admit, I've got a pretty hot head. So when he accused me of being ungrateful, I was pretty mad. I guess I didn't really think my actions through. Rather than sitting calmly and agreeing to never act like that again, I dashed out throwing a "What do you know!" He's just a stupid good-for-nothing teacher anyways. I mean really…

I kept running—it seemed like the only way to rid myself of this shame. Why would she do this? I mean really? I'm just a kid… not even HER kid. My chest was beginning to hurt, so I was forced to slow down. It didn't make sense. DAMN IT! Have you ever had that strong feeling of guilt? Like you feel bad because you haven't met the expectations of your parents? Yeah, sucks doesn't it. The sharp stinging of my knuckles reminded me that it's not a good idea to take your aggression out on random object. Sorry tree-san. I suppose there's no helping it. If she's gonna waste her money thinking I'm not gonna learn anything… to hell with her. I'll prove her wrong. I'll become smarter than everybody! That'll show her.

It's funny, whenever I feel upset I always come to this riverside. There's just something tranquil about it.

"Well… look what we have here…"

I know that voice! Alright, so now there's nothing tranquil about this place at all.

* * *

_Yeah, so it's short. I'll post the rest of the chapter as soon as I possibly can. Again sorry!._

_.ti pleh t'nac …dren a m'I .desuma ylisae gnieb fo syoj eht ,hA .sdrawkcab segassem ruo fo lla htiw enilno gnittahc sruoh tneps ecno I dna dneirf A .sdrawkcab etirw nac I ,sey dnA._

_But of course, when I said I wrote the chapters backwards, I didn't mean literally. . or maybe I did. I can imagine that most of you would kill me for it._


	10. Reunion

Yeah, so what can I say? I've this thing about dedication.

**Chapter 9: Reunion **

Up until the day that sniveling little brat came into my life, I had always gotten what I wanted. Whether I achieved my goals through fair or foul means never really mattered. What mattered was that Yumi Komagata is not the type to just stand by and let someone take what is her's. The moment my eyes landed on Sayuki, I knew that she would be trouble. I did everything in my power to make her seem bad, to make her miserable. My friend's, my advice to you now is that one should never mess with karma. The loss of Lord Shishio was the last straw. They could take anything away from me, the kimonos, the jewels, the attention, but when they take the one person that I have ever truly cared for… they shall feel my fury.

------------------

In this world all but the strong deserve to die. We who have sworn our lives to the sword and its arts have for centuries aided this land through times of turmoil. Now the land seems to believe that it is at an era of peace—a revolution that everyone favored. This is a weak land, a land that forsakes its loyal followers when they become to strong. I had fought for my country and it betrayed me. It is a land of deception, one that beneath my fists will tremble with fear. Under my eyes it will flower into a utopia of strength in which blade-wielding gods shall arise. Upon that throne of power shall be the greatest fighter that has ever lived. Death did not stop me and when I am through, death shall be my weapon. My revenge shall be exact and by my side shall be a queen who's fury and strength will be my greatest ally, my Yumi.

------------------

Shit. Shit. Shit! Alright, so…. Lesson number one. A young boy who is a simple beginner in martial arts is no match for a gang of yakuza. Especially not one that has a certain Gohei Hiruma in it. Blearily, I squint, squeezing my eyes against the pain. (Ever had something stuck in your eye? Yeah… I took a head blow, and some blood is trickling down.) It wasn't that big of a deal. The big deal was that currently, I was tied up against some sort of post in what sounded like the back of a teahouse. And they had the nerve to gag me! Jerks.

------------------

It was strange to return home to find that Yahiko had not yet returned; I brushed it off as a child's adventures with newfound friends. Rather than worrying, I made my way to my own adventures—quickly dressing and making my way to the first teahouse for that night.

The first teahouse turned out to be a remarkably dull and easy venture. Men are easily entertained by a pretty face. Well, at least shallow men. Sometimes I wonder if perhaps I only did this because of the delight I find in manipulating the human heart. I gave the man who escorted me to the door a small smile, softly thanking him as he handed me down the steps. With a little bow, I made my way to the next teahouse.

------------------

I glanced down at my ensemble, making sure that it was somewhat decent. A black hakama and a blue haori (was that the right term?). Pulling my hair up into a tight and high pony tail, I made sure that my sakabato was secure. Knowing that my appearance was pleasing to my eye (although I'm not truly sure if I had good tastes), I set out for the meeting at the teahouse.

The streets were near empty that night, barely illuminated by the bright lights within the random buildings and the moon that shone brightly through the cloud-less sky. I felt a sense of tranquility settle down on me—things were looking up. Finally there was peace, and perhaps now that I had found her, I could settle down in a quiet life filled with a loving family. That is to say, if I could convince Sayuki to shy away from her profession. Just thinking about what could happen sends waves of joy through my veins and as I walked countless plans for the future flittered through my head.

Through my musings came the soft sound of footsteps behind me. I had not realized that I had been walking so slow that someone could overtake me so quickly, but I suppose it was to be expected; from the sounds of it, whoever it was in a hurry. It wasn't proper of me, but I allowed my pace to slow so that I might catch a glimpse of who it was that was traveling so late at night. Abruptly, I stopped as she passed, slightly hurt that she had not even spared a second glance. I assured myself it was because she had not seen me; after all, it would hard to discern any facial features what with her gaze directed at the ground. Telling myself that, I called out into the night, a small smile gracing my face as she stumbled in a startled halt. "Sayuki!"

------------------ 

I thought my heart was going to leap right out of my chest. Mentally I berated myself, 'stupid, stupid, stupid—how did you not notice that of all people, it was HIM that you just passed? Kamiya Kaoru, idiot is an understatement.' I plastered a delighted smile upon my face, unwilling to show how surprised and slightly nervous I was to have finally after all this time found him. I shouldn't have been nervous, I should've been overjoyed—after all, did I not dream of becoming a Geisha of Tokyo for the sole purpose of perhaps one day finding him again? However, now, having heard that name pass through his lips, 'Sayuki' he had called out—pleasantly, as if we had only seen each other the previous night, I realized that whatever relationship I wanted with him, it could never be real. The woman that he would want would be Sayuki, a woman that was never real. I turned to greet him.

------------------

Right. So I'm getting tired of writing in first person. Chances are I'll be swapping to a few third person scenes in the not-too-distant future. And I know that kind of breaks the pattern of the story. But I'm hoping not to many people are going to care and are getting just as annoyed as I am.

Yes, I know that this is a short chapter. I know it's been a long time since I updated; I am really sorry! I don't really have an excuse other than being lazy and forgetful. I suppose you can say I had lost my inspiration for a time. Never fear though, I WILL finish this series sooner or later—hopefully. Can't really say when the next chapter will be out; I also can't promise that it'll be soon. But in the mean time, I've started up an LJ account dedicated to my fanfics; the homepage link in my profile will send you to it. Most of it is just little snippets of stories, drabbles, one sentences, and the makings of a new story, but hopefully it'll alleviate the demands for updates a bit. Maybe


	11. Discovery

**Chapter 10: Discoveries**

It was like two distant acquaintances meeting again. One of those, "I pass you on the street and to be polite, I'll say hello," sort of things. At least, that's what it felt like to me. She stood there, smiling at me as if we had just seen each other the other day, as if there had been no separation. But there was a distance between us, no longer was there that deep ease. She was tense about something, and I hoped that it was not me. Perhaps one of her customers was harassing her, or perhaps today was simply a bad day. Straightening, I was determined to make this night enjoyable for her. I offered to walk her to her destination with the excuse of catching up on old time. Thankfully, she agreed that the company would be enjoyable.

She was quiet throughout the walk, so I filled the silence with tales of my adventures, occasionally throwing out questions such as, "how did you get here" and such, hoping to pry a bit of information from her. She answered in her usual soft voice, keeping her answers short, usually throwing back a tease and diverting the attention back to me. My heart clenched at the sound of her voice when she murmured, "We're here." I glanced up at the teahouse that we had stepped in front of, exclaiming in mock surprise, "why, this is the same place that I was headed for!" Of course, I was expected to be at a different teahouse that night, but I decided that this reunion was much more preferable. Perhaps I could convince her to accompany me to this other gathering, she could hardly say no to a little extra cash-- that is if she didn't have any other plans that night.

The teahouse we had arrived at seemed old, run-down, and of little reputation. I wondered to myself why she had even come to a place such as this; perhaps she hadn't yet established herself here? The geisha in Tokyo were a bit competitive, the customers more individual favoring. They liked to keep their company to only a select few geisha. I promised myself I would show her to a few of the more respectable places, and perhaps help her get established here. Just for a bit until we could rebuild our relationship, and rebuild my courage. Upon seeing her, it had shattered to a million pieces. How could such a lovely creature even play with the idea of wedding an unworthy one such as me? Who was I to interfere with her work? "Are you headed to a specific party tonight or simply visiting the house?" I asked, hoping it to be the latter. When she confirmed my hope, I offered to accompany her while at this house too, explaining I had only come for a drink. She bought the excuse and we entered together, finding an open room right across the hall from a rowdy bunch of what seemed to be gangsters. I stiffened upon sight of them, hand instinctively going to the hilt of my sword, only relaxing when Sayuki gave me a questioning gaze. Hoping to not alarm her, I smiled, reassuring her that it was nothing.

--

We sat there for a bit in an awkward silence, both afraid to say a word. I didn't know what to do, or how to feel. After all this time, I should be ecstatic, but all I could think about was how deceptive I've been—what a fool I am. What if he found out about my other identity? What if he discovered this Kamiya Kaoru? She's a single female citizen who teaches swordsmanship. She's the polar opposite of a lady, and many think of her a disgrace having cast off the ways of feminine society. Himura, a man who had fought in the war and helped shape society into the way it is today, would surely be disgusted should he ever find out what I truly am. He could never love a lady such as me.

We were interrupted from our respective musing by a silky voice. "Excuse me, what shall I fetch for you tonight?" asked the house mistress. She must have personally come to greet us that night, for Himura was finely dressed. In an establishment full of street thugs, he stood out like a sore thumb. I glanced over across the hall at the group of drunken men, who occasionally leered our way. I gave it a few more minutes before one of them ventured our way. After Himura ordered us some sake, we both fell into silence again.

--

This was a slightly awkward situation. The longer I spent with her, the more I realized what a fool I was. I had so many aspirations, so many plans for the two of us, but in the end—they could never be. Sayuki is a sweet girl, innocent, caring and loving. I am a warrior, a murderer—an assassin: The Battousai no less! I've no doubt that when she finds out about my horrific past, she'll be disgusted. Who after all would even think to come into the arms of the legendary manslayer? I've no right to keep such a secret away from her, yet I can't bring myself to admit such a gruesome part of my life. Suddenly, the sound of a glass hitting the table jerked me out of my contemplation. My head shot up, how had I missed it? Our eyes locked, then parted and drifted down to the glass of sake that now sat upon the table and the startled hand of the house mistress that still rested there, trembling. I imagine that she believed she did something wrong, for she asked our pardon and wondered if she should bring a finer cup. I reassured her, and then turned back to my guest for the night. Our eyes locked once again, and for some reason, I began to laugh. She stared for a moment, thinking I was crazy no doubt, before a smile blossomed upon her face, and she joined me. How silly were we to doubt the friendship that we have? Such things like a further relationship could be dealt with later, for now; we should be enjoying each others company.

--

After we both calmed our nerves, I found myself forgetting about my worries and simply concentrating on the now and present. We talked and laughed, sharing tales, mine mostly obviously fabricated, he mockingly serious when he questioned me for more details, in which brought forth more fits of laughter and brief smiles cast each other's way. However, it was in the midst of one of his tales that my ear for just a second wandered and caught the name, "Yahiko" I strained my ears, listening to the discussion across the hall and forgetting that I was supposed to be paying attention to Himura. I couldn't make out all of what they were plotting, but I could swear I heard the words, "tied up…. will pay… brat…" I stiffened, knowing that something dreadful had happened. Himura-san must've seen my reaction for he stopped questioning my well-being.

--

Had I offended her in anyway? I bowed, apologizing profusely. "Forgive me, I meant no offense" although, I had no idea what it was that I had said to produce such a reaction from her. I was relieved when she reassured me that it wasn't what I had said, rather the conversation drifting from across the hall seemed rather foul. Slightly miffed, I stood, ignoring her questioning gaze. Determined, I opened the door, thinking to quell the profanity coming from that area. What respectable man would curse in front of a lady? I ignored her protest.

--

I watched as he demanded that our 'neighbors' be more respectable, stiffening as they took offensive, some of them drawing swords. There was bound to be a brawl and while I knew Himura had been in the war, he certainly didn't look as if he could take on this group of men. Fear clenched my heart as I surveyed the group, they seemed awfully familiar… Gasuke! I nervously wrung my hands, what if they recognized me? Thankfully, my face didn't spark anything but a few leers. They were just a little dim-witted. If it weren't such a potentially dangerous situation, I might've smiled as Himura's eyes narrowed at the leers sent my way, but as we seemed to be outnumbered, and I couldn't fight without destroying my reputation, I settled for a fearful look.

To my astonishment, Himura was a wonderful fighter—extremely skilled. He disarmed all who opposed him, without shedding a single drop of blood (well, he was using a sakabato.) He reacted calmly, as if it were natural. It wasn't until I felt myself pulled roughly into the arms of two men crying out in astonishment, that he seemed to become angry. Before my eyes, I watched him transform from just a simple skilled fighter, into a monster. His eyes glowed amber, his speed heightened, and before I even knew it, those same two men were sent crashing through the wall, and moaning out in the back yard. I watched as he stalked through the hole in the wall, each step with menacing intent. A muffled cry brought me out of my stupor; I hurried after him, catching his arm as he raised his blade to presumably harm someone further. "Himura-san, please, stop!" As his eyes melted back to purple and he relaxed, I to calmed. That is, until my eyes met the site before me: there was Yahiko, tied to a post.

--

I watched as Sayuki froze at the sight of that young boy tied to that pole. My blood boiled further. So this is what those hooligans had been playing at? I could understand why she would be upset, she being of such soft heart. I watched as she hurried to the boy, working at the ropes. I too approached, allowing my hands to cover her own, stilling them. She gazed up at me with wide questioning eyes, and rather than explaining, I let my sword do its trick. With a clean slice, the bindings fell uselessly to the floor.

The boy stood before us, wringing his red-welted wrists. For a moment, he shook out his limbs, probably trying to gain circulation again. Then he turned his attention back to us.

--

It must've been a good fight; I wish I could've seen it. Man, I thought I was going to die when those men came flying through the wall! He must be strong! I began to study his appearance and one by one his features donned on me. Red hair, cross shaped scar, and his eyes had been amber a moment ago! Fearfully, I stepped back, scooping up a broken piece of wood as a weapon. However, as I backed, I found myself stumbling over some debris, and right into the steadying arms of the geisha that had been with him. Startled, I swung my head around to look at her briefly to see if she had any ill intentions, and who do I see?

"Busu! What are you doing here!" My eyes darted back to the assassin. "Why are you here with the Battousai!"

--

I stiffened as he mentioned my assassin name. After all this time, it would be a kid who recognized me. My eyes bore into him, astounded. Did he really think I was going to hurt him? And what good did he think he could do with a plank of wood against the legendary manslayer? At least he had guts. I felt a weight fall into the pit of my stomach, my chest constricting, as my eyes slowly lifted to meet the face of my dear Sayuki, taking in her wide eyes and tightened fists.

* * *

AN: I've decided to stop being lazy and since I've pretty much settled and have time to spare between classes and clubs, I thought I might write again. Next update will hopefully be coming soon. Hope you enjoyed it. 


	12. Escape

Warning: Profanity in certain sections of Yahiko's POV.

Before we get started, I'd like to point out a few things I've changed about the characters. In the anime, I believe Kaoru was 17 (although I saw some sources that said 16) and Yahiko was 10, born in 1868. However, for my fiction, Kaoru is at this moment, 18 while Yahiko is still 10, meaning the age gap is slightly larger than in the anime and in this fiction, Yahiko was born in 1866… not that the year really matters.

Ages:

Kaoru: 18  
Yahiko: 10  
Kenshin: 29

* * *

**Chapter 11: Escape**

The moment he recognized me, I froze, all thoughts scattered out of my mind. My mind raced, grasping for ideas-- how to keep him quiet without seeming suspicious? Finally. I grasped a tentative and certainly shaky plan. I began to fuss over Yahiko: straightening his haori, checking for injuries, dusting out his hair, "Yahiko-kun, I'm so glad you're safe! Himura-san, thank you for saving my young charge; I am in your debt." I bowed to my escort, hoping luck would be on my side and he would address me by my 'name.' I was in luck.

"It is of course the least I could've done, Sayuki-san" he reassured me, I cast him a smile, clamping down my nervousness. Himura-san is a sharp and intelligent man, to get out of this with him none-the-wiser would be a challenging feat and require a great amount of luck. "Might I ask who this young man might be?" he asked.

I smiled gratefully, placing a hand on Yahiko's shoulder who had been standing there confused and wary. He jumped at my touch, swinging around to look me in my eye. Perfect. Our eyes locked, and I murmured, "This is Yahiko, my errand boy."

He sputtered, confused, "What? Sayuki?"

"Oh course, have you so quickly forgotten my name?" I gave him a sharp look, hoping he'd catch on and play along. "I suppose it's not too surprising," I glanced up at Himura, casting him a smile, "today is his first day you see, and what with this scare, I would imagine he'd have trouble remembering his own name. I certainly would!"

--

As our eyes locked, I knew that something was up, especially when the Battousai called her Sayuki. Maybe she was disguising herself in order to protect herself? I certainly wouldn't give my name so freely if a manslayer were stalking me! Tch. Well, manslayer or not, no one is going to harm her while I'm around.

"Forgive me, Sayuki-sama, of course I remember your name. I was simply not thinking properly in all of this excitement. I trust that you were not harmed in anyway?" I asked politely, casting an accusing glance at the red-haired warrior. I nearly scowled as I watched her swallow a chuckle, probably finding my respectful manner hilarious—well, she better not get used to it! I couldn't help but let a smile slip in relief as she reassured me that she was fine. That's good, so long as she isn't hurt. Tightening my grip on the shaft of wood in my hands, I turned my full attention back to the manslayer… of course I had been watching him the whole time. I wasn't distracted at all. Nope, not once. Kaoru may be ugly, but she's not so ugly to keep all of my attention… really.

I allowed my eyes to narrow in what I hoped to be a menacing sight. "Again, Sayuki-sama, may I ask what business the Battousai has with you? And shall I remove this unsavory presence?"

--

I stifled a giggle. Did he even know what unsavory meant? I guessed that it was a term he had just picked up that day at school. It was a relief to find that he seemed alright; at least he was spirited enough. Battousai? Surely he was joking. I cast a glance at the accused, taking in his appearance. Himura-san had not changed in the slightest since I had last seen him. Aside from his hair having grown a bit. It is true that he had been in a war, but the Battousai? He did have the features of the legendary manslayer… but that was all. His voice, his persona, his very nature screamed compassion and kindness. A man who had slain hundreds, who could make the area rain blood would be a cruel and cold man indeed, and Himura Kenshin was the paradox of such a man.

"Yahiko-kun! Apologize at once! I can assure you that Himura-san is a completely different person than the Battousai, and I'm certain that he takes offense to being likened to such a fiend as the legendary manslayer! I glared at Yahiko as he gave me an incredulous gaze. He obviously wasn't as assured as I was.

--

Thankfully, Sayuki was too busy fretting over the boy to notice I had tensed. I forced myself to relax as she turned her attention back towards me. As she thanked me, I assured her that it was no problem at all. After all, what sort of immoral person would stand by and watch a young boy be placed in danger?

Although, truth be told, the young boy seemed rather mature for his age. There was spark in him, a spirit that spoke of pride and the way of a warrior. I bowed to him as Sayuki introduced him. For a boy who had just started that day, he certainly was rather attached. I brushed it off as a young child's infatuation. Children at that age are rather impressionable, quick to fall in love and slow to fall out. After all, I was only a couple years his senior when I married Tomoe-san.

I smiled in relief, throwing that smile at Sayuki-san hoping it'd reassure her. What a relief, for a moment there I had thought that my identity would be revealed. From her description of me, I am extremely glad that she didn't believe the boy. Luck was surely on my side this night. "No need for apologies, I understand perfectly." I gave a rueful grin and extended my weapon, unsheathing it before the boy. I suppressed a chuckle as he tensed, ready for an attack. This was certainly a very brave boy. Not very many people would face Battousai with such a determined stare.

"I assure you, young man, I'm not the person you think I am. Unfortunately this mistake is made much too often" I offered the sakabato to him. "Certainly you can see that this blade I wield could shed no blood." I smiled as he took it in his hands and examined it, astonished. It surprised me when he shoved it back at me, sharpened side facing me. "Oro?!" … now where did that come from? Sheepishly I sheathed my blade, trying not to seem bothered by the odd look the boy gave me. I suspect that Sayuki-san was merely too polite to comment or laugh at my expense. What a relief

--

I've never seen a blade like this before! Psh, like Hell I'd admit that to HIM though. I shoved the instrument back at its wielder, snorting in amusement at his expression. As if I'm going to be fooled by a blunt blade and a seemingly-innocent act! What does he think I am? Stupid? I may be an… uneducated kid, I mentally cringe at the thought, but I've got street smarts! Even I know that you don't need a blade to kill! Something like that could easily kill someone if you hit it at the right place, or if you struck with enough force, and that point certainly looks sharp enough! Oh no, I'm on to you Battousai, if you touch her or even THINK about touching Kaoru-san, I'll skewer you on the end of your own sakabato. To hell with a sword that doesn't kill!

"Forgive me Himura-san, how rude of me to act in such away to our savior." I bowed, though made sure to keep my eyes on him. "Sayuki-sama, we've had quite the scare tonight, forgive my insolence when I saw that perhaps it's time that you retire for the night." …I sound so stuck up. Kaoru, you better have a good explanation for all of this. She'll probably never let me live this down. I mentally groaned.

--

I almost frowned at the boy's suggestion though I'm sure they didn't notice how upsetting it was. However, I suppose I could understand. Apparently that boy wasn't fooled… smart boy. It's obvious that he's trying to get her as far away from me as possible. Perhaps if I let them go he'll be less suspicious. Besides, Sayuki certainly does look tired.

"I think you're right Yahiko-kun, Himura-san, I hope you'll forgive me for cutting this night short." She once again bowed at me. I raised my hands in reassurance, giving my usual assurances that again, it was quite alright.

"It's no trouble at all. Perhaps I could walk you back to your okiya?" I asked. This way I could find out where she's staying and come calling when the boy is gone. To my dismay, the boy answered for her.

"That won't be necessary Himura-san" he told me sharply.

"But it's not safe to walk about at this late of night unaccompanied!" I protest. This child apparently really didn't like me.

"Himura-san, you certainly wouldn't want to ruin Sayuki-sama's reputation. Being new to this town, it's already unstable as it is."

--

He had a point there. I certainly don't have a secure relationship with her, and I'm not her Danna yet. People have a tendency to overreact over the simplest of things. If Sayuki-san were a normal girl, my walking her home in the middle of night would be scandalous, as a geisha, it could ruin her career. Who would accept a geisha who's rumored to have affairs at night? Reluctantly, I agreed. That however wasn't going to stop me from following them in secret. Be assured that it is only to ensure their safe return. No ulterior motives whatsoever.

I walked them to the door, bidding them goodnight. Unfortunately, to my dismay, before I could begin to follow them, I was stopped by a voice. A member of the party I had agreed to attend that night had apparently been running late. Recognizing me, he insisted that I go with him. So adamant that I attend that by the time I had a chance to slip away, I had lost sight of Sayuki and her charge. Dejected, I made my way to the teahouse that I was expected at that night.

--

After changing and cleaning up, the two of us sat facing each other over cups of tea. While I can't cook very well, there are few who can make tea better than I. Silence hung heavy in the air, and I fidgeted in my seat. The night's events had been something that I had not expected at all. I had dreamed about this night, imagined so many different sceneries, different conversations, all leading to one thing: Love. How naïve had I been? I'm a geisha, a woman hiding behind a painted face, fanciful hair decorations, and fans. A woman who found joy when she donned a hakama and haori, who elated in the rush of energy a swing of a bokken brought. Sayuki is the epitome of a lady, I, Kaoru, am the polar opposite. And while as both I have fallen in love with Himura-san, surely he could only love Sayuki—a lady who doesn't exist.

I cringed as Yahiko finally grew impatient with my silence and slammed his cup onto the table. As I lifted my eyes to face him, I too set my cup down, though much more gently.

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE PLAYING AT KAORU?!"

This was the first time he had addressed me by my name. I watched him with a grim expression, noting as I watched the rage, the anger, and to my surprise, the fear that flashed across his face.

* * *

TBC 

Preview of the next chapter:

"_I don't know what image you hold of me…" You're strong. You're unbeatable. "I am a warrior, your teacher; I am a swordsman." Yes, and damned fine one too. Why won't you raise your voice? Why won't you hit me and call me Yahiko-chan? Why won't you rage at me?! "But beneath all of that…" Don't say it… shut up! Please…don't say it… "I'm still a woman." That shouldn't matter. That shouldn't matter at all._

So yeah, I'm still alive! Yay for vacations! I'm sorry, I've got no dedication towards writing whatsoever. The urge to write usually just comes and goes for me. Oddly enough, this time it came when my external hardrive broke (thank you soooo much, little brother), wiping away all of my anime, manga, and of course… my stories: uploaded and not. Let's just say I wasn't happy.

So yeah, as all my entertainment had been wiped, and with a younger sibling unwilling to share bandwidth so I could get back what I had lost, I turned to my fallback for fun. Thank god I actually enjoy writing.

So yeah. Review! Next chapter should be up within a week or so, but you have to feed my ego a bit. I might even post the next chapter within a few days if you feed my gluttonous ego enough. )


	13. Insights

Important Edit/explanation: I guess I didn't make it clear enough when I said the interlude was just a branch off of the story line. What I said that, what I meant was that it's really just a "WHAT IF" scenerio. So, while up to this point, Kaoru and Kenshin may seem dense for not recognizing the identity of one another, technically they don't know or have had met the other other than as "Himura-san and Sayuki." Kenshin has NEVER heard about one Kamiya Kaoru, so has no reason to connect the Kaoru with Sayuki, and Kaoru... well, Kenshin is Kenshin. You don't ever see random people freaking out at his appearance of magenta gi, sakabato, short stature and over frail appearance and screaming "It's the Battousai!" Yeah. I took that as a "Kenshin isn't usually recognized as the manslayer in the general public." So I don't really think it's hard to believe that Kaoru has yet to make the connection. All in all, Kaoru has never seen Kenshin acting as anything but "Himura-san" and Kenshin has never seen Kaoru act as anything but "Sayuki" so neither has any reason to suspect otherwise. So yeah, Kenshin isn't really that dense. He has not met Kamiya Kaoru nor has he heard of her, therefore he has no way, no reason to even suspect that Kaoru and Sayuki are the very same. Perhaps that'll clear a few things up.

* * *

**Chapter 12: Insights**

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE PLAYING AT KAORU?!"

This was the first time he had addressed me by my name. I watched him with a grim expression, noting as I watched the rage, the anger, and to my surprise, the fear that flashed across his face.

I replied in a soft voice, a voice that I'm sure he had never heard from me before. "I'm sorry; I should have told you earlier. However, what do you expect of me?"

--

What did I expect of her? I don't really know. I expect her to be strong, I expect her to be stubborn, and kind, and… and… anything but a geisha.

"Kaoru, a GEISHA?" I said the word in disgust, glaring as she cringed. Good, she should feel bad. I was angry, furious, hurt. Why didn't she tell me? If she needed money I could get a job! To hell with school! Screw training!

"Do you think I have a choice?" she asked me. It only caused me to grow even angrier. Even more afraid for her. She must think I've gone crazy. "Of course you have a choice!" She could be anything! She could do anything! She's KAORU! There's NOTHING she can't do. She's strong, isn't that what she always tell me? That if I were strong enough, if I had the will, couldn't I do anything I wanted?

--

I had expected him to be upset. I knew he'd be hurt that I had kept this from him, but I certainly didn't expect this extreme of a reaction. It hurt. As he screamed that I indeed have a choice, something in me snapped. I grew angry, furious… hurt.

"Don't be so hypocritical. You of all people should know how cruel this world is!" I exclaimed. I had expected him to understand. Wasn't he the ten-year old former pick-pocket? Hadn't he once had no choice but to turn towards foul means to survive? He acted as if I were an abomination. Like my occupation was a plague upon the earth.

---

"That's bull! There are other things you could do. Like… like..." I trailed off, for the moment, my mind at a loss in my blind fury.

"Like what Yahiko?" she asked softly, in a pained voice that shot through me like a dagger through the heart. "I was 6 when I was taken in for this training, a child 4 years your junior. I could do nothing to fend for myself, could do nothing to stop the wheels of time that had so cruelly turned against my favor." _Shut up… shut up…_

My hands clenched, I stared down at the knuckles, uncaring as they whitened, uncaring of the pain, hoping it'd drown out her voice.

"I don't know what image you hold of me…" _You're strong. You're unbeatable_. "I am a warrior, your teacher, I am a swordsman." _Yes, and damned fine one too. Why won't you raise your voice? Why won't you hit me and call me Yahiko-chan? Why won't you rage at me?!_ "But beneath all of that…" _Don't say it… shut up! Please…don't say it… _"I'm still a woman." _That shouldn't matter. That shouldn't matter at all._ I glared at her, as if it were her fault. As if the opinions of society, the cruelty of the world were her fault. It was unfair of me, I know it. But anything to get her to change-- To be something other than THAT.

"I am an 18 year old woman, unmarried and without parents." _I know that!_ My eyes closed, I could feel myself trembling, feel her eyes on me. In her voice I could here another's voice. A voice I could only faintly remember, could only hope to hear again in my dreams.

"I know that…." I said, voice trembling.

"Then you understand." She hopefully offered.

"No." I cried, _no. No I don't understand. I didn't understand at all._ How could the world be this way? How could people hold such opinions? _It's not fair…_

"Yahiko!"

"NO!" I screamed, refusing to believe, slamming fists against the table, jostling the cups. Tea spilled across the surface, dripping onto the hardwood floors. I glared at her through tear-veiled eyes, uncaring that she would see me weak. I didn't care if she thought I was an insolent, stupid and selfish boy. _Damn her for being so selfless. No one asked her to take me in, no one asked her to take care of me. Damn her. Kaoru, I hate her… she's just like HER, just like... mot--- she'll leave me to. Damn her. Damn society….. I hate her… I hate…_

She gazed at me with those pain filled eyes, those lying, betraying eyes, and told me, "I'm happy."

_Liar…._

_I hate you…_ I trembled in my spot, blinking back tears of anger, of grief… of fear. My shaking intensified as I heard footsteps. _She'll leave me…_

Finally, when the door closed behind her, something in me gave way. Tears blinded my vision, and all I could think about was ridding myself of this ache in my heart, this burning in chest. I raged across the room, kicking, screaming, and destroying anything I could get my hands on. An odd sort of satisfaction came with each crack of wood, each shatter of glass. Finally, my hands wrapped around the teapot, raising it above my head, I was all too ready to smash it into the ground.

_I hate you…_

_Don't lie to me._

_You don't have to pretend for me…_

_Liar... I'm such a liar. I suppose we're alike in that sense. _

_I hate you…_

_No_.

_I hate myself_. I stared down at the spilt tea, continuing to hold the pot above me head. I watched as it trickled across the surface, watched as my tears dropped into them. Suddenly exhausted, I sank to my knees, setting the pot down untouched on the table._ I'm weak. Worthless… Yahiko, you can't do anything to protect them._

Relentlessly, I beat the table, over and over again, ignoring the pain that flashed through my knuckles, ignoring the blood that soon decorated its surface.

_You lied to me. You said that you loved me… you said that you wouldn't leave me. You promised that everything would be alright._ And like a flood, they came, slowly and surely… the memories.

_Don't leave me… Not again_.

--

There I lay, staring up at the ceiling, listening to the relentless pounding that he dealt. _Please stop… _I winced at a scream in frustration, knowing that for whatever reason, it was best that he vented. How long had it been since he cried? How long had he bottled this pain up? I knew very well that all of his anger wasn't directed at me. It was towards a woman that I had replaced in his life, a woman that I could never face, nor compare to. A woman that no matter how much he tried to deny, no matter how much he accused, he would always love… his mother.

I couldn't understand his fear for me though. I remember that his mother had died in a brothel, but surely he knows that as a geisha, I'm different? It didn't make sense. Perhaps it was simply the fear of Himura-san, who he is wholeheartedly convinced is the Battousai. I don't know.

Even though I know his words were uncensored and unthinking—laced with his anger at loss, it had hurt nonetheless. I had not meant to remind him the cruelty of society, it was unintentional. But the truth. I grieved over what he would lose this night, tears fell from my eyes, dotting the bedding beneath me. I am a woman, I had said. And that was what made all the difference in the world. Here, in this time and age, women were regarded as nothing but either tools for entertainment and pleasure, or housekeepers, treasures to be married off. Yahiko and I, the two of us are very much alike. He, at a young age, had turned to pick pocketing to survive, I, at a young age, had become a geisha. What else could I do? No parents, no money—who would hire a background-less orphan? What else could she do? There was so many things to be paid for, maintenance of the dojo, food, clothing, Yahiko's schooling. And still the dojo was in bad shape. What else could pay for all of this? I told myself it was only until I had gotten enough to revive the dojo. I told myself that I would fight back; I would show that even a woman could hold a sword. That I was not weak, that I could fight! But to do this, I needed the dojo in capable condition, and for that, I needed money.

It wasn't until recently that I had begun to think back on my life, whether or not I am happy. I remember the beatings. That certainly didn't bring joy. I remember the training, the shamisan was enjoyable-- I remember the mizuagi. Why won't I stop crying?

_I am happy._

Against my will, I began to tremble, curling in on myself.

_I am happy._

I still remember it vividly, could still feel his hands on me—feel him inside of me. I remember every detail, his face, the surroundings-- his smell… my smell: the scent of fear. I remember crying as he told me I was beautiful, that I was perfect. I remember feeling dirty. My arms circle my stomach as cling to myself tightly, trying to no avail to banish those memories from my mind. _Dirty…_

_I'm still so dirty…_

Softly, I began to sob, flinching with the sound of each strike that Yahiko dealt that drifted through the doors from the room next door.

_I am happy._

I pull myself into a sitting position, hands hugging my knees. My tears wet the fabric of my clothes, but at this point I don't really care. I found an odd comfort as I rocked myself, quivering with the sound of his anger.

_I am happy._

I choke back the urge to scream.

_I am happy…_

_I am happy._

_Happy…_

_I have to be._

TBC

* * *

**Preview:**

_She hates me. It came as a realization that very night as I sat across the inn's porch, gazing into the night sky who's color so resembled my Sayuki's hair. She hated the Battousai. Had I killed one that was beloved to her for her to speak the manslayer's name with such loathing? It is true that my name would strike fear throughout the lands… but the thought of hatred from her eyes, from her lips was unbearable. I am unworthy. Even now I could feel the urge to purge myself of these sins creeping along my veins; I have yet to reach redemption._

So the next chapter is going to take a bit longer to come out. Expect it in two-three weeks. Sorry it'll be so long, but it's not quite finished yet, and I've got work almost everyday, not to mention I still have to pack for the move back to campus. Yay.

Review!


	14. Changing of Tides

I think it is fairly safe to say that this chapter is angsty. Sorry bout that. I also apologize for the long wait. It's been kind of hectic here. Fun stuff.

* * *

**Changing of Tides**

She hates me. It came as a realization that very night as I sat across the inn's porch, gazing into the night sky whose color so resembled my Sayuki's hair. She hated the Battousai. Had I killed one that was beloved to her for her to speak the manslayer's name with such loathing? It is true that my name would strike fear throughout the lands… but the thought of hatred from her eyes, from her lips was unbearable. I am unworthy. Even now I could feel the urge to purge myself of these sins creeping along my veins; I have yet to reach redemption. This one is unworthy.

This one does not deserve the light of one such as Sayuki-san. Truly, this one should separate himself from her. But I can not. She knows her art too well; she has entrapped me. This had been the first dose of her that I've had in years, and already I am addicted. Like a drug, she has seeped into my veins—boiling my blood, rousing emotions that I thought long buried. There is a darkness in me that she tempts. I fear that slowly, she is awakening the demon within me. That 'fiend' as she so eloquently called it. I only pray that this one will do nothing that he will regret.

The night is crisp; it's breeze a soothing caress. I close my eyes, inhaling the scent of the fresh air. If I cannot keep myself away, I shall at least protect her from myself. To her, my secret will forever remain silent. God help me if she ever finds out who I really am.

---

He had come riding into my village, declaring his intention to take over. I remember there being a great uproar of laughter at his announcements as if it were the greatest joke in the world. A few officers had approached, taking the threat lightly. They expected to have him within custody in only a few moments, thought that perhaps he was yet another drunk, and had hoped to quiet the mad-man quickly. What they did not expect was to be cut down only seconds after they had drawn their swords. There was no more laughter—only a plethora of screams. More officers were dispatched, just as more were slain. Soon, the bodies of civilians joined. When he was assured that the citizens knew this was no simple joke, he paused in his slaughter, calling out a proposition to all: join or die. Such strength he had possessed, such power—indeed he should be regarded as a god. I was happy to join and no words could express the joy I felt as I rose within his ranks. I could see the bloodlust, the determination, the fierce passion for battle. I was enraptured. This man, this warrior who had stolen the lives of so many of my village, had stolen my heart. It was this man, Shishio, that I, Kamatari, had fallen in love with. Under this mans' hand, we would slowly plunge Japan into a new era.

----

The rage filled my veins, fueling the desire for me to destroy everything within my sight: to blind my thoughts, to escape from the memories. Eventually, my body tired, and amidst the chaos, I slumped onto the floor, silent and shaking. I knew what I must have looked like: like a damned kid, like some punk who didn't get his way and was too spoiled to just suck it up and accept it. But it was just so HARD. Over and over again, in my mind, I blamed her. As if all of it were her fault, the training, the work… the desperate need for money. And through all of the explanations she gave that swam in my mind, I could hear the soft cries of my mother. I couldn't seem to get the tears to stop. They ran down my eyes, burning them and soaking the sleeve of my haori. I'll be damned if I let her see me like this when she walks in, I had told myself. But even as I heard the door to her room slide open, I couldn't stop the flow of tears.

For a moment, all was silent, and all I could hear was my own harsh breathing. A fleeting hope that she had retreated back to her room flitted through my mind, before the desperate need for someone…anyone, quenched that thought. Before I could stop myself, I swung my head around towards her doorway, half-hoping she would not see the desperation in the action…half-hoping that she would. "Kaoru…." My voice croaked as I watched her. Unlike myself, she made no attempts to blot away the tears that fell from her eyes, she made no attempt to hide the pain she was in, nor did she attempt to hide the remorse she held. In those eyes, I saw understanding. With shaking steps, I stood and stumbled towards her.

---

Abruptly, the noise in the other room had stopped, and I vaguely I wondered if he had at least left something remotely in its original shape. Highly doubtful, but I hoped none-the-less. The silence seemed odd, disturbingly eerie. In times past, there was never silence, even when no one spoke, I could hear the years of love, dedication, and hard work, drifting and echoing throughout the halls. But on this night, it felt as if all support had drained away, all the wonderful memories, as if mocking me... You don't belong here.

Eventually, as I cried, I began to feel a pull—the need for someone to simply care. I forced myself up, and stumbled towards the doorway where I could feel the silent call of a lonely boy who desperately needed someone to care for him. Who needed it almost as much as I needed someone to take care of.

I stood at the doorway, watching him, wanting to approach but fearful of being turned away. In the end, he made the decision for me. I smiled faintly as he crashed into me, cradling his head against me with gentle fingers. A hand lightly combed through his hair and whispered soothing noises, as if a mother rocking a babe. Slowly, we sunk onto the ground, where his embrace only tightened further. Minutes passed, and eventually he stilled somewhat. Though his shoulders still trembled, it was not with a force that shook at my own heart. Tentatively, I broke the silence, "Tell me about her?"

----

I had of course known that he was a powerful man. Indeed, that is what attracted me to him in the first place. However, I would never have guessed the amount of sheer strength that had lain within him. When they tried to separate us, he had shown exactly how powerful he could be. With his hands, he exacted the vengeance I craved. With his sword, he slew the fools who had dared to humiliate me. He laughed as my okiya burned. I could only watch in awe, watching his silhouette against the flames. This was the man I fell in love with, this was the demon who I stood by. This was the future ruler of Japan, the conqueror whose throne I would one day share.

I went with him, always by his side, even as more joined him—more understood the depth his strength reached. I alone could claim his heart, no one else, not even Kamatari. Little by little, our army grew, and little by little, we advanced through Japan.

---

I couldn't help the smile that pulled at my lips as I watched him. He had set himself within my lap, burying his face within the folds of my kimono. As he calmed, he clutched at the fabric, refusing to let go. With a lowered head, he began to tell his tale. His voice was hoarse, and he spoke softly, as if relaying a secret that none but I was privilege to, as if the very walls of the room were listening in and condemning what he had to say.

"My mother was a geisha."

I blinked down at him, biting my lip in question. Patiently, I waited him out as he took a deep breath, preparing himself for what I assumed would be a long story.

"She once told me that when she met my father, it was love at first sight. They had met in a teahouse where she had been visiting. This was before her _mizuage_."

His eyes remained trained on his hands, though I thought I saw a brief dart of his eyes as I flinched at the name of that dreadful ceremony.

"She was extremely fortunate. When it came time for the bidding, my father won. He was an honorable man, and would not touch her. No one ever knew that she remained un-bedded. He became her _danna,_ and when years had passed, she accepted him. When it was learned that she was with child, she quit her life as a geisha. Then I was born."

A mirrored his smile as he reflected on the precious memories he held of his mother. "We lived happily until father was called to war. He died in battle." His eyes clenched in grief. "Mother had to return to her life as a geisha to support us. It was fine at first, that is, until a man wished to become her _danna_." His voice shook at this and his fists clenched; his knuckles whitened. "When she refused, he took her…" At this, his voice softened even greater.

As he choked out the next words, I could feel the blood within my bones freeze. "He raped her." He had to pause here and recollect himself. "He tarnished her reputation and spread his feat amongst his friends who in turn told the entire city that she had been taken to bed. No one would accept her as a geisha after that point. She had no choice but to turn to the brothel." He spat the location out as if it were a plague.

"In there, she slowly lost her mind. Her body deteriorated along with her sanity."

* * *

I didn't directly say it, but Yahiko's mother died of syphilis. In case anyone was confused about that.

Again, sorry this chapter was so depressing. I promise the next will have more KxK moments. Yay.


End file.
